Loose Snakes Loose Ends
by SkyeMoor
Summary: Harry and Draco are off to join the circus! (Okay, not really, Draco doesn't know what a circus is...) But they are running away...
1. Loose Ends

[a/n: this is at nearly the beginning of third year. Please review, this is my firstest story ever.]

As the ocean stretched endless before him, Harry inhaled the salty smell of the sea. His hands grasped the railing, the sailboat rocking in the choppy waves. Behind him, the sails snapped in the wind, the lashings cracking against the main. A splash of silver - was that a fish? All of a sudden, he smiled brightly, cheered by his first time on the vast expanse of water - a grand adventure! From here to eternity, to the great Oceanus himself cradling the world. Tossing his head in the breeze and leaning into it across the railing, he clung to the wooden rail, the waves rocking him back and forth. _Freedom - this is what it feels like._

* * *

Clip Klop, Clip Klop. Harry's eyes opened blearily, staring out at a greengray moor. _Where am I?_ He blinks once, and once again, the green gray blur turning into sedge and heather. _At least I've got my glasses..._ To his right, Harry heard a sucking sound, his mind conjuring a mudmonster ready to consume him. Glancing over, he sees a horse's hoof, rising out of the muck. Above, a familiar, platinum head of hair. _Malfoy._ Harry stiffens, infused with adrenalin - he flings his hand out (Or he would have... except its tied up in front of him). His spastic jerk of his shoulder sends Harry's head and body falling from their perch. Held up by his hands and his bound legs, Harry's face falls into the horse's shoulder, his glasses jarring painfully against his nose. _Why am I on a horse?_ Harry heaves himself upright again, missing the slight (and quite possibly misplaced) look of concern on Draco's face.

"Let me go!" Harry shouts brazenly, his fear outrunning his reason.

Malfoy looks at him with disdain. _Really, Potter? Even I could have come up with better than that._

"I mean it, Let me go!" Harry says, getting more unnerved by the other boy's silence than by any insult he could have flung.

"Making demands, in your position?" Malfoy says with a trace of a smirk.

"If you don't, you'll be _Sorry_!" Harry says, pulling a card that he had long ago sworn he'd never say. Because, at home, it had never been true. Now... well, someone would say something about whatever hairbrained scheme Malfoy had come up with. At least he hoped they would. With that thought creeping up his spine, and Running out of threats to make, Harry deflates, bravado tumbling down towards resignation.

"Go where?" Malfoy drawls, his eyes looking meaningfully out at the vast expanse they were traversing, the moor cut by a winding ribbon of road, stretching towards the horizon.

"To Hogwarts!" Harry says, his mind too occupied with getting away to be paying terribly much attention to Malfoy's. Which, in hindsight, would prove to be a mistake.

"Oooookayyy..." Malfoy drawls, even slower than he usually talks. Clip, klop, the horses feet pound onward.

Harry notices belatedly that Malfoy's holding a gorse line to his horse. _What is going on? Why is he doing this?_ "Well, Why aren't you untying me! You said you would!"

Malfoy smiles, and says, "I said nothing of the sort, merely said that I'd let you go to Hogwarts... eventually."

"Untie me you blithering arse!" Harry says, his mind abruptly stopping to do some much needed thinking.

"Why should I?" Malfoy smiles, showing a few too many teeth.

"Because you're kidnapping me!" Harry says, his voice full of conviction.

"I hadn't noticed." Malfoy says with a sarcastic twist.

Harry says hopefully, "I have to use the bathroom?"

"Oh, it can't be that bad... if it was, you'd have said that first." Malfoy says, matter of factly, and with a simple roll of his eyes. "I don't think you'd make it if you tried to escape, anyhow."

In the course of the past five sentences, Harry had generated enough unpleasant outcomes - including two fates worse than death that made his stomach churn, that he was honestly starting to worry. Malfoy wouldn't need cement shoes to lose him out here, after all.

"Are you possessed by Voldemort?" Harry asks, pinpointing the problem he was most worried about. Bad enough to be stuck here, tied up, with Malfoy - of all people. Out here, alone, with a powerful Dark Wizard bent on his death would be indeed a problem worth fleeing... even if Malfoy was right, and he wouldn't escape. At least he could die an honest death. He hoped.

Malfoy blinked, opened his mouth, shut it, and then opened it again, saying shortly, "No." Only his father's training was keeping a crease from his brow. He had expected Potter to think that he was going to kill him, to torture him, any number of creative ideas... But to bring up the Dark Lord...

"Did you make a bargain with Voldemort? Is he going to give you something to kill me?"

Now Malfoy allowed one of his eyebrows to quirk downward, both at Potter's increasingly... incoherent... ravings (at least he hoped they were incoherent. If they weren't, well... everyone expected Slytherins to slither away to safety, didn't they?), before shaking his head in negation.

"Did your father tell you to do this? Is he... going to kill me? Is he trying to bring Voldemort back again?"

"Honestly, Potter, where do you come up with these delusional fantasies. The Dark Lord is dead..." and Malfoy let his voice trail off a good bit longer than he had intended.

"Nobody told you what happened second year?" Potter said, his voice an odd mixture of longing and ... something else.

"You sound like you've got quite the story to tell. You've simply _got_ to share." That last sentence Malfoy said with the exact intonation that either Lavender Brown or Pansy Parkinson would say if they were getting down to girltalk - with friends.

The precise impression sparked a genuine laugh out of Potter, earning a surprisingly genuine smile from Malfoy.

"Are you going to kill me?" Harry asks, in a quiet voice that reveals more than he means it to.

Draco's seagray eyes meet his, consideringly. After a long pause, Draco says, "no." Harry files that away for later contemplation. They had been schoolyard enemies, sure... but _he took that seriously -_ unlike everything else Potter had said.

"Why?" Harry howls, his body straining at his restraints, and feeling them give just a little - not magic then.

"Why what? Surely you can manage a bit more specific than that." Malfoy responds.

"Why are you doing this to me?" It started out angry, but came out as more of a whine and a wail.

"Oh, that's easy, I need your help." Draco says it with a slight tilt of his head - somehow managing to look nonchalant at asking his oftimes adversary for a favor.

Potter starts to sputter, and Malfoy cuts him off, saying smoothly, "Details later. Explanations later. We've established that you shouldn't try running off, and now we've really got to move." Looking upward, Malfoy frowns at the seadark sky. "If we don't hurry, we'll be caught in the open when the storm falls." Clucking to his horse, he starts out at a bonebreaking trot, both of the boys making enough noise that talking was impractical.

* * *

The dog that was a man sniffed the air, nudged his nose to the ground. As a man, his thirst for vengeance had enabled him to escape from Azkaban. But as a dog, his need for pack drew him farther away from the evildoer. He had Harry's scent, mixed with horses... and heading away from Hogwarts. Find Harry first, his instincts urged, and he fairly flew down the trail towards Hogsmeade.


	2. A rattlesnake appears!

It had only been two more hours ride, before they found the copse of trees Draco intended to use for shelter that night. Still, Harry thought he was going to go mad with boredom. He couldn't even fidget properly. And Malfoy's words - _he wants my help?_ were driving Harry up a wall. True, there was a long list of things that Harry couldn't be persuaded to do under any circumstances. And there was a long list of things Harry would do without a second thought. Harry then paused, amending, well, for a _friend_. Malfoy certainly had no claim on him. A thought uncurled itself inside Harry's mind - _what if it was something gray?_ something that would look fine until later, upon closer examination, tugging Harry down the path to wrack and ruin.

Malfoy was also alone with his thoughts, and they spun outwards from him, as he methodically chased down each and every one of them. There was something hidden in what Potter had said... or hadn't said, as the case may be. He hadn't asked, not once, if Draco was going to hurt him. No... his priorities had been on other things. That was... unexpected. And, Draco found his thoughts swirling perilously close - what if the Golden Boy wasn't exaggerating? What if the Dark Lord wasn't really dead? And what had his father to do with it all? Draco knew, as the heir to his house, that the Malfoys had been high in the Dark Lord's favor... but that had been a long time ago, and his family had been quite careful to be seen in as good a light as possible. Surely his father wouldn't... couldn't... Shaking his head, he pushed all the grim thoughts away, as he turned again towards Potter, smoothing his face as he really didn't want to be seen smirking at Potter's inability to squirm. Potter's saddlesores would need treatment before morning, squirming or no squirming.

Malfoy pulled them to a stop at the edge of a copse of trees, dismounting with a rattle of tack.

"Draco Malfoy is asking Harry Potter for help?" Potter said, looking askance at the blond boy.

"Indeed." Draco says, continuing to tie the horses up, wanting to be sure that he had the horses hobbled before he let the other boy down.

"You have an awfully funny way of asking for help." Potter said, his words evincing a cleverness borne of hours of thought, as Draco bent one foreleg of Harry's horse, hobbling it.

"I know," Draco says, his eyes sparkling like Dumbledore's as he looks up at his former foe. "Hear me out, at least." His eyes shone brightly in the fading light, as he drew a knife.

Almost instinctively, Harry leaned away from Draco, sending his horse skittering towards the knife. Draco used his free hand to steady the horse, "Shhh... shhh... it's okay. He didn't mean to hurt you, I just surprised him..." Potter muses, _Why isn't he using his wand?_

With a wry smile, Draco looks up at Potter and says, "Thought you wanted free of those ropes? Hold still." Without really giving Potter a chance to say a word, he started cutting the ropes off him.

"Whats a matter, lost your wand?" Potter says, his voice at once scathing and teasing.

With a snort, Draco cuttingly snarls back, "Like you know where yours is," as his hands finish slicing the ropes. "Swing your right leg over behind you and then bend your left knee." Potter decided to wait until he had both feet on the ground before he asked anything more. As his feet hit the ground, Draco was there at his side to steady him for a moment, before stepping backwards.

As Potter turned toward Draco, he said, "What exactly do you need my help with, Malfoy? After you went to all the trouble to kidnap me, this had better be good..." Potter's eyes sparkled in anticipation as he said it.

"I want out." Malfoy said, in a surprisingly quiet - and _calm_ \- tone.

"Of Hogwarts?" Harry startled, before collecting himself, "No, you could just ask your daddy and he'd send you to Durmstrang, I suspect..."

"I want to become a muggle. And you're going to help me do it." Malfoy said, his eyes speaking a grim resolve that sparked quietly against the certitude of his words.

Harry's world spun, as his brain tried to supply answers that his mind wasn't really ready to deal with, "Why should I?"

"Well, you did say you wanted to get back to Hogwarts... you'd stand a better chance with me than without me..."

"And why's that?"

"Well, money's been known to open a lot of doors, and you'll find that I've managed to scrape a good bit of it together...Of course, there's another reason..."

"Oh? You planning on tying me up again if I say no?"

"No, you mentioned it earlier..." Draco said, and Harry shot him a look of puzzlement. "Your wand. It's hidden - where even the Dark Lord couldn't find it."

"Then what makes you think that I could?"

"Simple, it's hidden by arithmetic. And you'll have Granger. I doubt there's a maths problem that would stop her for more than a day."

Potter nodded at this, taking for granted Hermione's mathematical prowess. "Why should I trust you?" he asked confrontationally.

"Never trust a Slytherin" Draco recited, "They're always hiding something." And then he smirked. "What do you suppose I've been hiding, Potter?"

"I'd hardly know, you've been a git and a bastard since the moment I laid eyes on you!"

"Ahh... that's the trick, isn't it? I'm not really a bastard, and you're not really as brave as people think."

"All that cussing, all those insults, just an act?" Potter says, disbelieving and more than a bit hostile.

"Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm only human. And you're just So Easy to rile up, Potter." Draco says with a knowing smile.

"You were picking on Neville Longbottom, and what's he ever done to you?" Potter spits.

"What, like I could be nice? Kid needs to toughen up a bit, even you have to see that much. One can be helpful without looking like one's helping." Draco says, and Potter's suddenly seeing Snape looming over both of them - the man who had saved his life, and was much more of an enormous arse than Draco ever managed.

Blinking back uncertain feelings, Potter spat, "I suppose you're going to say that you're in love with Hermione now?"

Draco's eyes grew cold, as he turned suddenly away from Potter, "No. I hate her, that's always been true." Draco's hand began to ache, as he flexed it, thinking how much he wanted to punch that understanding look off Potter's face. What did he know about any of it? Not a bloody thing!

As if in unspoken agreement, they laid out the tent, and got a crackling fire going. Food was all cold, of course, but it was filling - and the water they drank was pure, if sparingly given. Neither of them had any clue how long it would take to get off the moor, after all. [a/n: Draco's good and lost. He's never been this far from a floo before. And he didn't bring a map.]

* * *

Panting hard, the Grimdog turns right down the coachpath away from the road to Hogsmeade, smelling the scent of horses. He hadn't run this much in years, and his muscles were already starting to feel it.

Hours later, the Grim approaches the copse of trees, smelling fire and horses and boys. In a strange way, it felt safe, reminiscent of home - when home had been the Marauders, that is. Curling up nearby in the darkness, he laid his head down, listening to the crackle of the fire as two boys tried to sleep, far from anything they'd ever known.

* * *

Today, Professor Severus Snape was not a happy man, not in the slightest. Those who did not know him well, would have thought he was in something of a snit, but those who knew his sharp gestures well would have easily recognized the spiked annoyance - the icy glare that didn't rest on anything long enough to freeze.

This morning had begun, as mornings often did, with a simple check of the wards around the Slytherin rooms. As he had checked them, Snape had frowned, the red beacon telling him that Draco Malfoy hadn't returned to his room last night. Odd that, Snape thought, setting it aside for further consideration - what mischief or malice was his godson up to now? Or was it a tale of sorrow or woe? He thought smirking to himself - it would be just like the hapless _Prince_ to start his adventures with the fairer sex by turning lovelorn. It was a simple thing to check on his hairclip, and Snape smiled a knowing smile. Malfoy was in the North Tower, a place Snape knew well. A fine place for a sulk, and not a poor place for plotting either. Then the lanky professor had turned to his next bit of trouble - Marcus Flint, his beacon showing orange. Now, what had Marcus done to be out of the House this early?

A rap at the door had signaled the start of Snape's Very Annoying Day, although he of course hadn't known it yet. Marcus Flint stood there, with a shaking Astoria Greengrass. Snape had looked at them for a moment, and then ushered them into the door of his private quarters (the room he allowed his snakes to see, at any rate). As the door closed, Astoria yelped, and then started to squeak, "Snake! There's a snake loose!" Biting down on his notoriously harsh tongue, Snape looked impassively at her.

Marcus, the prefect, said simply, "Breathe. Take a deep breath. It's not here now, and the Professor needs to know what's happened." Snape nodded at Marcus, who nodded slightly back, returning the unspoken thanks in the manner it was given. Snape had chosen Marcus for that reason, after all - he knew how to be quiet, and when to listen to even unsaid things.

Astoria took a deep breath, and said, "I got up today, and I was putting my clothes on, when I heard a rattle - I looked across the room, near where Ellisith was sleeping, and I saw this huge black snake, all curled up and staring at me with those beady eyes! I couldn't help it, I shrieked, and woke up Elly, and then had to think quick to keep her on the bed... She could have been bit! And by the time Ellisith was calm, the snake was gone!"

Snape nodded curtly, "Thank you for explaining. Remain here, your eyes may tell me information your tongue knows not." Turning towards Marcus, he said simply, "Put the first three years to sleep, and keep them there, until I determine how dangerous the situation is. And keep the upperclassmen from wandering out of their rooms. You may tell the other prefects the situation, or any professors that might happen by. If anyone dares to raise a fuss" - Snape's tone leaving little to the imagination as to what he'd do to them - "I'll write the detention slips myself." [a/n: Snape's excusing people from Saturday detentions, because of this incident. Doesn't mean they won't get a different one from him, which is what he's implying].

Snape had whirled, looking at his small shelf of muggle books. "Sit" he said absentmindedly at Astoria, who sat uneasily at the edge of a wooden chair, eschewing the padded Queen Anne. "Herpetology, herpetology..." Snape said, his fingers tracing the books. Snakes were near the top of a prankster's toolbox, when it came to the Slytherins, and the Head of House Slytherin was well practiced in dealing with the common garters. Asps were a lovely choice, for those willing to tip the hat to the muggle Cleopatra - generally a Griffindor or Ravenclaw mired in a lover's quarrel with a Slytherin. Contrary to common woolgathering, Slytherins weren't the only people to get jealous or envious.

"Ah, here it is." Snape says, pulling a rather thick book out, with a picture of a newt on the front. With a ruffle of his robes, he sits abruptly in the Queen Anne with an offended creak. Paging through, he pauses at a picture that compares a pit viper to other snakes. "Astoria" he says, without looking up, trusting her to approach - as she jumps up nervously, skittering towards him. "Do you know which one of these pictures your snake looked like?"

Astoria meets the professor's dark brown eyes, nodding slightly, before saying "The wedge shape."

At that, Snape fought the sudden urge to clap the book closed. "My dear, who have you been irritating lately? What schemes have you been hatching, that someone would try to kill you."

With the strange position of being slightly taller than the professor (who was still sitting, the book arresting his normal pacing), Astoria shook her head saying, "Mandy doesn't like me very much, and Draco's always - sorry Professor - a bit prickly, but I haven't done anything to anyone recently, except learn a charm faster than Elly! And the snake was nearer her than me, anyways..."

"Has Elly seemed different lately? A bit more nervous, a bit prouder, perhaps?" Snape asked, chewing on his words like bubblegum, before slowly stretching them out into the dungeon chill.

"Nothing. Maybe a little more... lighthearted? I mean, she laughed at a Gryfindor's joke...? But I don't think Erica even meant for her to hear..." Astoria said, her voice changing from sheer certitude to a more questioning tone as she searched her memory for any changes whatsoever.

Snape nodded, resuming looking through the book. A poisonous snake, a pit viper... this wasn't the work of a harmless prankster. No Griffindor or Hufflepuff could possibly even think to jest with death. Oh, a Slytherin might, but these were just second years. His hand paused, as his relentless skimming slowed to a snakelike slither across the page. Yes, this was a rattle - a rattle-snake, oh, how clever. And quite deadly. Cocking his head upward at Astoria, he asked impatiently, "Is this what you saw?"

Astoria examined the page slowly, shaking her head, "It was all black, professor, or maybe a dark brown... but it looked similar."

Snape flipped a few pages, "Like this?" to which Astoria simply nodded. "You may leave, but do not return to your dormitory." Snape said, his eyes devouring the words on the page. A timber rattlesnake black as Voldemort's heart, reported to be shy - and clever enough to warn predators - or mindless _children_ of where it was standing. How utterly _fascinating_ \- or it would be, were it not in my House, ready to murder a student if provoked - his unseen eyes flashing a cold, humorless fire.

He had nodded earlier at the hemotoxicity of the poison, and sent the infirmary a short missive - run up by Astoria, who hadn't left the dungeons quite yet, and was looking like she was quite at loose ends otherwise, as it wasn't even time for breakfast. The note had read "for snakebites today, consider the same treatment as a blood freezing charm would take." Snape was confident that the healer would understand what he wasn't saying.

And this was why Snape was having such a bad day. Now, he paged through piles of books, sheaves of loose parchment, frowning, and wondering what had _possessed_ any student of his (surely it wasn't a teacher, not even Hagrid!) to set a snake from halfway across the world loose in his dormitory. He was having a rather lot of trouble even finding an antivenin recipe. Frowning, and tossing yet another book on the heap of "not useful" he began to consider a trip to the London Zoo. There was a rather generic trick to making antivenin, if one was able to come by a sample of the poison. It would certainly take longer to brew, and besides, he didn't need to explain a trip to Muggle London to anyone rightabouts now. Still, he wasn't about to let anyone loose in a dorm with that snake about.

Standing, and setting aside the parchment he had been holding, Snape brushes his robes clean of the dust - a rather mindless habit that he rather detested, and would be cross if he ever realized he still did it in times of stress. With steps quick and sure, Snape headed toward the Headmaster's office, to give his excuses for breakfast.

Sprout stood outside the great hall, and though Snape surely didn't need a reason to avoid her, he was hell-bound if he would let her see him willfully dodging her. "Yes?" he asked frostily, not for the first time wishing that the Hufflepuff matron would show some Slytherin subtlety and actually understand that he was in a hurry. [a/n: sev, you're always like that, of course she's not going to get the hint. What hint?]

Unruffled, Sprout huffed, "Is there some reason that all of House Slytherin is as late as the Griffindors to Saturday Breakfast? It is the most important meal of the day after all."

Snape responded with a mild glare, "Yes, it would appear that your overabundance of peeper frogs in the greenhouses has attracted a rather poisonous snake to the dungeons." Sprout was about to explode with feathers everywhere at the sheer improbability of her outside greenhouses affecting the fauna of the dungeons. Cutting her off brusquely, Snape continued, "Of course, appearances can be deceiving." As Sprout deflated, her agitation draining out, Snape gave her a perfectly proper bow, and said "Adieu", leaving her to muse on his strange and rather inexplicable sense of humor. Watching Snape's robes billow after him, Sprout considered a few thoughts on exactly how he had managed to get all his sneaky snakes to stay in their dorms. They were each graphic and none complimentary.

"Headmaster" Snape said, "I find I must be taking a short jaunt to Muggle London today."

Dumbledore looked up, his eyes sparkling, "This wouldn't have anything to do with spells and prefects sealing all your dormitory, would it?"

Snape smirked, following it up with a sneer, "Honestly, I don't know why I bother telling you anything. If you see any Slytherins out of my House, save Astoria and the prefects, feel free to deduct points. I won't have their deaths on my head." Today at least, his morose attitude surfacing despite the headmaster's attempts at good cheer.


	3. Far from Anywhere

[a/n: too much snape? too little? review and tell me!]

Off to the zoo, Snape sighed, straightening his researcher's uniform. Snape hated wearing white, it got stained with ink, it was nearly transparent when wet, and to top it all off, it looked _perfectly hideous_ on him! His skin was already pale, wearing white made him look like a ghost. While he wasn't entirely oblivious to the students who credited him with being a vampire, at least that did his reputation credit, even if it was more than a bit implausible and short-sighted. Straightening his uniform again, he grabbed up the book on herpetology, thinking 'soonest started, soonest finished.'

Bureaucracy was an annoyance any day, and this one was no exception. Having suffered through a train ride, a trip through the floo, and a walk through the noonday sun (what his students didn't know wouldn't hurt them, this time at least), he was now explaining exactly why he needed fresh rattlesnake venom, and that no, night adders' venom was not an appropriate substitution. At last the poor zoologist smiled, and said, "Wait a moment while I fetch Harry." Snape examined the older gentleman as he was accustomed to examining his students, and found the poor man a good bit wanting, both in the good sense and cunning departments. Most would have known to get Snape what he needed simply by the strength of his glare.

At last, Snape was back in his office. It being past midday, he sniffed at the lunch the house elves had left, before floating it into his quarters. Nothing edible in the potions lab. It would appear some of the house elves needed _reminding_... Absently, he began to plan the trick, as he added snakeskin and just the tip of a snake's fang to the boiling oil. They landed with a sizzle.

Three hours later, and just in time to miss dinner, Snape bottled the three vials of antivenin. Placing them carefully in his private store, he strode towards Slytherin House, visions of puddings dancing in his head. He hadn't meant to starve his snakes, after all...

"Flint, McNair, gather the students. You can release the sleep spell, get every Slytherin into the common room now." Snape snapped, as he strode into the common room, his voice pitched to echo through the entire House.

"Children, if I find out (And I will _Find Out_ ) that it was one of you who imported an exotic and foreign snake into my dormitory, and then proceeded to loose it - and not tell me, you will rue the day you were ever born. You are to not attempt to catch the snake under any circumstances. Avoid the snake. If you do find it, tell either a prefect or me. Do not bother the other Heads or teachers with this. I hardly think Professor Sprout would like to spend the day searching for poisonous snakes." Although Minerva might like it, cats did go for snake-killing often enough. "We will keep this within our House. Not a word outside it, until the fell creature is captured. Any questions?"

Goyle raised his hand, "Is it a very Dark Snake?"

Snape sighed, saying abruptly, "No, it is a normal, muggle snake. simply a very dangerous one."

* * *

[Earlier that day...]

It was dark, darker than Harry ever remembered seeing it, and he'd been on the Astronomy tower at all times of the night. Slowly, he began to consider what Malfoy had told him... and more importantly, what he hadn't. For whatever reason (Malfoy hadn't been clear, and Harry needed to know, if - this was going to go further), Malfoy wanted to leave everything behind. He hadn't said how nor why. And yet, looking back, Draco Malfoy had somehow managed to not be arrogance personified. He seemed serious, which was intriguing... And he seemed confident, which was an invitation to watch Malfoy fall flat on his face. This wasn't some sort of sad joke, a jest or jape... And, Harry had to think, if Draco was merely serving me up to someone bent on evil, he'd have hardly let me lie here, unbound - even if we are so far from anywhere that it would be easy to find me if I ran off. Villains, in Harry's experience, were far from patient. Internally, harry sat back on his heels, thinking of the fork in the road ahead of him. Harry Potter could go "home to Hogwarts" - as soon as that was available, which he was fairly confident would be far sooner than Draco was expecting (nick his wand, and summon the Knight Bus, Harry thought with an evil smirk) - but that was the safe answer, and since when did Potter do what was safe? Oh, Snape would be so disappointed! A chance to let off some steam at the Golden Boy of Gryffindor was not to be missed, after all! Here Harry stood, with a mysterious adventure beckoning at him. His lips compressing into a thin line, Harry Potter thought, "if it's an adventure, I'm going to do it right. Details first, and decisions second." As he drifted off to sleep, he wondered about whether Draco had actually just been putting him on - was this face, this new face, just another mask? Potter's sleep was troubled by unsettling dreams, as he tossed and turned, his mind in overdrive.

* * *

[About a half hour later...]

Draco woke, looking up at the bright stars, and the Road of Heroes and Warriors** stretching across the nightdark sky. Idly, he wondered how his plan was going. Had anyone realized they were gone? Really, did anyone care? They were, after all, just two British kids, on the run. They couldn't be the first, could they? Not even from Hogwarts... Shaking his head, he thought, "It hinges on Harry Potter" - but then again, his backup plan did too, and that was just poor planning. If a boy was to make a backup plan, it shouldn't have the same point of failure as the original. Still... he had smiled, once or twice, yesterday... and even pushed a little on a few of Harry's buttons, and not been laid out flat on his back for his trouble. Frowning, Draco thought moodily, "I think this just might work..."

* * *

[A few hours later, the fully-crested sun shining out of the east...]

Draco and Harry seemed to wake at the same time. Of course, that was only an illusion. In fact, both of them had been awake for a bit before, collecting their thoughts and waiting for the other one to make the first move. It was only when Draco realized that Harry's breathing was far too regular that he decided to do something about it. What will be lost to the sands of time, as Draco sitting up caused Harry to immediately sit up as well, wanting both to finish the unstarted conversation, and to not leave himself completely helpless.

"What do you need my help for, Draco?" Harry said, as he pulled out some of the hardtack to eat.

"I want to learn how to fit in as a Muggle." Draco said calmly, his grey eyes intense and serene, the indomitable steady wind.

"Why me?" Harry blinked, suddenly realizing how little he knew of the world at large. He had barely been outside Little Whinging. "What's so useful about me that you decided to kidnap the Boy-Who-Lived? Isn't that like kicking the hornet's nest?"

"Well, you can hardly know less about the Muggle World than I do, growing up in it and all. I doubt it will take you all that long to teach me, anyway..." Draco says with a syrup-slow smile.

"Why not Hermione?" Potter cried out, as this seemed to be growing weirder and stranger by the minute. It just didn't make any _sense_...

"Please, give me some credit." Malfoy scoffed. "For one, Granger _doesn't break rules_." Somewhat googly-eyed, Potter stared at Malfoy, only belatedly realizing that Draco couldn't possibly have known of half the ideas Hermione had devised. Suddenly wishing for a camera (and filing that look away, as it undoubtedly _meant something_ ) , Draco continued, "Second, you'd have noticed she was missing the moment she wasn't at a meal. Or in the library. And - you wouldn't have stopped until she was back, come hell or high water."

Harry nodded curtly, conceding the point. "It's gotta be tough caring for someone so much..." Draco growled under his breath. "You'd be searching for her right now, and have started before lunch yesterday. With luck, they won't have found you missing until classes on Monday..."

"Why's that?"

"Because, _I_ can forge _your_ handwriting. For emergencies only, you understand..." Draco said, smiling triumphantly.

"So you won't be doing my Potions for me this year, then?" Potter said hopefully.

"With your help, I won't even be there." Draco said with a trace of a smile.

Potter said, quietly, "I'm not saying no. And someone had better look after you, so you don't get killed."

"But...?" Draco said, his manner still and quiet, even as he packed away the tent.

"You sprung me on this, and it needs more than a little thought. It may be completely unworkable."

"Fair. I suppose I can't hold my poor planning against you." Draco responded, his mind working on pulling another backup plan out of his hat, just in case.

"I don't suppose I'd have reacted any better with more notice, mind." Harry said with a bright smile.

"No, that would have been something to see..." Draco said, his contemplative tone describing exactly what he was envisioning in his mind***.

They fell silent, focusing on packing and eating their feeble repast.

"Where are we headed, Malfoy?" Potter asked, as they prepared to head down the cobbled road again.

Malfoy smiled a prankster's smile, "I was hoping you had some idea, honestly. Away from Hogwarts was good enough for me."

Potter blinked, and then laughed, finally saying "You mean we've just been riding _away_?"

Malfoy smiled and said, "If I picked a direction, it would just make it easier to find us, wouldn't it?"

Potter chuckled again, shaking his head at this new bout of tomfoolery.

Both of the boys groaned as they mounted their horses. Draco's was a destrier, while Harry sat a smaller courser. Harry couldn't resist a smirk as Draco bounced twice, trying to get astride. "Too much horse for you?" Harry asked. "No, Shade's a decent ride - but don't try her yourself, you haven't been taught. In fact, that's why I've got Sandy's head." To prove his point, Draco tugged at the rope. "We don't have time for you to learn more than the basics, but I'm happy to teach..." So saying, he clucked his tongue and they started off. Unnoticed behind them, a black shadow separated itself from the long shadows of the copse.

* * *

The great black dog, now slim as a greyhound and as gaunt, woke to voices - happy children. Rolling to his feet, he sat the way dogs generally do, absorbing the cheer as if it was a lifeline, letting the happiness strengthen his resolve. As the boys mounted up, the black dog stalked out of the copse, following them and keeping their pace. It was a far easier pace than he had set the day before, anyway.

**Milky Way. I'm stealing Hungarian Mythos here, but hey, alternate universe.

*** Spectacular explosions, fwiw.

[a/n: up next: The boys discover the dog. The Rattlesnake gets captured. The Snape goes off to chase two wild geese!

Timeline Note: The above is Saturday, and about the second week of school (thus no Quiddich to have captains complaining to Minerva or Snape, as tryouts haven't happened yet)]


	4. The sound of a cat's paw

[Not long after...]

Harry was still thinking about what Malfoy had said, wondering, testing really, the thought of the other boy telling the truth. After all, it really did seem a lot of effort to go to, if all you really wanted to do was kill Harry Potter. Still, it was possible that Malfoy was playing an elaborate joke... Even so, it'd need to have a grand punchline to skive off school. Particularly if he really wanted to sell this... No, as odd - and it was _odd_ \- to think of Malfoy as not being who he had been acting like these last two years... He seemed genuine. Which left him with one real question - did he really want to help _Malfoy_ , of all people?

Beside him, Draco was thrashing through plans as if piling them crumpled atop a wastebasket until they hit the ceiling. Anything was better than asking, wasn't it? Because Draco didn't know what he was going to do if Potter said no. Oh, sure, he had plans... but none of them seemed worth a knut. It seemed so... depressing... so half-assed - so Gryffindor to pin his hopes on only one plan... Irritated with himself, with the world for actually existing, he looked out at the horizon, not halting, but casting his gaze around and behind. And then he had to pay attention to his horse, quieting him, because he saw a gaunt black dog out of the corner of his eye. "Potter, I think we're being followed..." Draco Malfoy said, with a hint of a drawl, and so smoothly it was hard to tell from his lips that he had spoken at all, as Malfoy drew on some of his training.

Harry's head snapped up, as his thoughts resolved, glancing backwards as nonchalantly as a Gryffindor could. Unnoticed, Malfoy rolled his eyes at Harry's avoidance of looking at Draco - that was just criminally obvious. Hadn't anyone taught Potter _anything_?

Harry laughed, a bright sound carrying far in the clear morning air, "Oh, it's just a dog!"

Draco looked back again, considering, wondering if Harry had ever heard about what a Grim was...

"Do you suppose it's friendly?" Harry continued, sounding the slightest bit nervous. A Gryffindor afraid of a dog, of all things? Malfoy filed this away for future use - hidden knowledge was never wasted.

"Only one way to find out," Draco cried, losing himself in the simple amusement of having found a dog, of all things, all the way out here on the moor. To placate his more suspicious instincts, he reasoned that if they didn't deal with the dog, it could always follow them until they slept. Better to deal with it while they could see - he didn't even have a ward with him, let alone a wand.

Halting, they hopped off the horses (both of them pausing a moment to stretch), watching the dog, who was just behind and to the left of the horses, as he laid down with just a trace of a sigh.

The great, gaunt dog was doing his best to look friendly and harmless. It wasn't working well, he feared, as he laid his head down on his paws. Luckily for him, the boys innate need for companionship ( _pack_ ) won out over concerns about a feral dog's safety. Children always believed themselves invulnerable.

"What have you done to yourself!" Draco purred, as he approached the dog, squatting and offering a hand to be sniffed. _Cousin_ , the dog caught the scent, going still and looking between the blond and the black-haired boy. Moments later, the dog gently licked the hand, then, in a swift move, ducked his entire head under the boy's hand. Draco, used to hunting hounds half the size, began to scratch the dog behind his ears. "He's friendly, Harry!" Draco cried, as Harry moved quickly closer, giving the dog a gentle pat, enjoying the quick thumps of his tail on the ground.

The big dog rolled unexpectedly onto his back, putting his body nearly under Draco. Draco yelped, hopping backwards while retaining his position, as Harry smiled, "He wants his belly petted." Draco frowned, as Harry began to stroke the dog's belly, unknowingly affirming the dog's role in his new pack.

* * *

Snape had vaguely expected to wake to a knock at the door. After all, they had set out numerous heatlamps (an artifact of the year the Weasley Twins had conjured a snake for every Slytherin in the house. Harmless garden snakes, of course. It had been the Hufflepuff badgers that had caused all the trouble. There never was such a thing as a harmless badger).

Instead, he had risen at the normal time, and checked his wards. Draco Malfoy was not in the Slytherin dungeons. Thoughtfully, Snape strode across his room, with movements clean and precise as cut glass. He hadn't been at dinner either. With an abrupt slicing gesture, he activated the standard tracing charm. The Astronomy Tower - still sulking, child? With a _relatively_ warm sigh - the cheer of a wisp of cold in the dungeon chill, Snape headed upstairs. Students parted before him, threading themselves together in his wake. A few Hufflepuffs scurried to get out of his way. All the normal ways of showing respect to the domineering professor.

Striding up to the top of the Astronomy Tower, Snape stared around, looking for the bone china face of Draco. With a frown, he looked again. And then he flicked his wand into the tracking spell, **_downstairs,_** before mentally asking himself why he had bothered climbing all those stairs for nothing. He was two steps down before he paused, thinking suddenly - _I hadn't seen him as I strode up..._ Fretfully, he walked downstairs, his strides taking him down three times as fast as he had come up, his long legs skipping two stairs for every one he touched. Halfway down, he spelled the tracking again. _Not far now_. Three turns later, he paused, fishing the hairclasp out from behind a sconce. With a sigh, Severus Snape wondered what had happened.

Always be prepared is a Slytherin precept, dearly as beloved as it was to any boyscout. At least it was after Snape was done teaching the lackwits and dunderheads. With a cruelly smug smile, he activated the second tracking charm. Only to frown - it was disturbingly near Hagrid's hut. Draco hadn't liked the man, had never ceased to make fun of his heritage and lack of magical ability. Why was he _there_? Hoping the moping teen wouldn't make him late for breakfast, Severus Snape set off with a crack of his robes, as his long legs swished across the floors. As he walked out of the castle, he couldn't help but look, and listen - the habits of a spy are hard to break, after all. Wondering, suddenly, if Draco had been doing other things, other than sulking. _Hopefully not fighting,_ Snape thought, _It was bad enough talking to Lucius when it wasn't about his son_ _making trouble._ Lucius had always been more about loyalty and protection than common sense, and he truly had never seemed to understand why the school thought he should punish the boy. _Thus it was my fault, my duty to make sure he learned_. Made all the harder by a father who spoilt him rotten.

Halfway around the hut, Snape paused, looking at a muddy shoelace, half hidden in the muck. Something deep within him had gone cold, he knew, as he stared at it, _Did they dare? Had they truly dared to take him?_ After a moment's pause - his countenance had not changed even the slightest, but he had inwardly wanted to compose himself a bit (ever unwilling to admit how upset he had been). _How unlike Hagrid not to notice..._ _unless, it had happened while he was tromping the Forbidden Forest, at night._ Snape let the ghost of a wolfish smile grace his thin lips - students would have run from this display of teeth. _It's time I talked to some Slytherins..._ And with another crack of his robes, he was striding off towards the Great Hall. Yes, indeed, he would be missing breakfast today. Mirthlessly, he smiled - _let them wonder_. And for the life of him, he couldn't have said whether he meant the teachers or the students.


	5. You're slipping out of control

[a/n: It seems Snape is confounding Draco's assessment of which tracker he would look for first... And I rather think Snape would be upset if any realized exactly how easy he was to wind up, simply by threatening one of his Slytherins.]

Severus Snape was a storm sweeping up from Hagrid's hut, a whirl of robes and a steady, cold glare on his aquiline face. Luna Lovegood saw him and stepped gracefully into a cubbyhole that only she knew was there. Slytherins stepped to the sides of the hallway, their faces paler than normal. A few Hufflepuffs were fool enough to be caught staring, frozen in fear. Had any wondered why Snape wished to teach the Dark Arts, they'd not have wondered twice after seeing him in a towering fury. Surely children ought to know the basics, the bare essentials of survival?

"Fred, George" he growled at the two, and despite their freckles, they paled at his icy tone. "Follow." And he strode, his long legs making even the tall brothers have to stride to catch up, towards the nearest empty classroom. "Blimey" one said to the other, in a voice so low that Snape felt rather than heard it. It was with a fierce pride in making even the irrepressable twins listen for once in their blasted lives, that he turned towards them, a twitch from his wand slamming the door behind them.

Snape stood, for twenty seconds, staring at the two - long enough for them to look guilty, of course. They always looked guilty, for they were _always_ up to something. "Have you finally learned how to vanish a student?" Snape queried, his smirk looking deadly out of place on his face - his icy gaze entirely unmoved by his own quip.

"No, sir." One responded, while the other blinked.

"Have you lost someone, sir?"

They had both held his gaze, and he needed no Legimency to know when Weasleys were lying - they were far too emotional to conceal their thoughts. "Not a word, Weasley" he snapped, as he left them staring at each other in the room. Potter's bunch, next - surely they'd have some clue. Snape was trying very hard to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach that he had just given the Weasley's a fantastic idea for a prank. And as suddenly as that, one tiny corner of his mind began to work on a plan to get Slytherin the House Cup this year. For Severus Snape had played plenty of pranks in his day, and the twins were never ones to stop simply because it was a bad idea...

Meanwhile, most of his mind was on the fourth year Ravenclaws, Cho and Cooper, who he swooped down upon like a bat (surely it wouldn't be a fifth year or older student. they had Owls, and a bit more pride and dignity - even if it was Malfoy...). With his arms outstretched, he intimidated them into a small cubbyhole - stopping only to silence the room, before asking, "If I missing a stray Slytherin, where would I find him?"

Cho, with an innocent look on her face asked, "Under his bed, sir?"

Stormy-eyed, Snape's eyes flashed murder, as he said, "Ten points for your cheek. I am not the door to your common room, and I do Not Ask Riddles!" With a crack of his robes, he strode off, entirely forgetting to cancel the silencing spell.

The Library. Snape strode towards there, not expecting to find a captive child, but if the resident cataphract of a bookworm wasn't clinging to the library like a lamprey, that would be telling... No less quick and sure, Snape's steps nonetheless softened as he approached the library - Madame Pince was _not_ to be trifled with, if you valued the company of books. And Severus Snape had spent many long years considering books better company than people. From a nook inside the library, he studied Hermione Granger, watching for any telltale signs of undue concern. Of nerves, he saw plenty - but that child was often a nervous wreck, nothing new there.

As he turned silently away, he stopped. There it was, the thought that had been tracing the edges of his consciousness, hiding just out of sight like some wild beast approaching a campfire. _Two days,_ Snape thought, _I am made a fool by my own mind_. No children would, could hold a boy for two days. It was sheer folly - not because people would notice (Clearly they _Hadn't_ , Snape thought uncomfortably), but because a captured boy was little fun. Capturing him again, watching him squirm - and flee in a panic, that was _far_ more likely... Which meant that he was going about this all wrong.

An image surfaced in Snape's well-ordered mind, Draco with his hand raised in Herbology of all places... a slim, silver bracelet slithering down his arm. Snape snapped out of his fugue, and cast another tracking spell, this one on that rare heirloom that Snape wasn't supposed to know about - and _certainly_ not that it held a tracking charm.

The charm pointed unerringly to Draco Malfoy's bedroom, down deep in the Slytherin dungeons. _Lovely_.

* * *

Harry Potter was quite a bit _beyond_ frustrated, and trending towards irate. He had the _perfect_ solution to The Malfoy Dilemma (as he had taken to calling it in his head), and it was completely _impossible_.

Why, oh why, couldn't Draco Malfoy have asked Hermione?

 _No, don't ask that, you've done that already_.

Great, talking to yourself much?

But it would have been _Perfect_! All Hermione would have to do is find a telephone, call her folks, and get them to take Draco Malfoy in. Her parents wouldn't think anything of driving the length of Great Britain simply to help someone out - Hermione certainly never cared how much trouble it took to help Neville with his Potions.

Harry wasn't at all sure that he _wanted_ to help Draco Malfoy anyway, though there was this vague and fuzzy feeling that he _ought_ to. Whenever he tried to pull it into the light and look at it, it transmogrified into _he ought not to help Malfoy, on general principle_.

And then his thoughts would turn back to how _easily_ Hermione could have fixed this. She'd have been home by supper!

Looking around for any distraction, any distraction _at all,_ Potter finally spoke, "Tell me a story about what you were like, as a kid. What was it like being you?" He was circling the question he wanted to ask, and he knew it. Be direct, he silently cursed himself.

 _Finally_ , Draco Malfoy thought, as he looked up at Potter's voice breaking the steady clopping of the horses' hooves. Draco Malfoy liked silence as much as the next lad, but he could see that Harry Potter wanted... something. _But what?_ Buying some time, he asked, "What do you mean?"

"What's it like growing up in a Wizarding family?" Harry Potter said, his green eyes flashing more emotion than any Slytherin would dare show to a possible enemy. _Or really, any family at all..._


	6. The Slithering Snake says ssssstudy

_Something_ about that question was off, Draco thought to himself. Backpedalling a bit, trying to scramble a bit for time, he asked, "Haven't you heard enough about that from the Weasleys?"

"Not... not really. Their stories are always about brothers, and their house is a zoo. It's all complete chaos, and... ireallycan'tseemyparentshavingsevenkids." Harry said, finishing the last bit in a rush. _Please_ don't ask anything else, he pleaded, his eyes instinctively averted from Draco's.

Long training had burnt any desire to fidget out of Draco Malfoy. Still, he turned the idea over, and over again. "Let's trade. You tell me about your Muggle upbringing." There, not a sneer, not a stammer.

"WHAT?" Potter yelped.

And Draco smoothly interrupted, before that head of steam could come shooting out his ears. "That way, I'll be able to blend in a bit better, if anyone asks..."

Potter began to laugh - and it wasn't a pretty sight. It was a mirthless thing, an irrepressible gust of inappropriate merriment, like laughing at the sight of your dead cat. Moments passed, and then Potter sobered up suddenly, and said, simply, "No. Ask for something else."

 _Really_. _Really now_ , Draco thought, feeling absurdly satisfied at the puzzle that Potter was laying out in front of him. Something was going on in that mind of his, and it was definitely something Potter didn't want to talk about. And that was fine, Slytherins liked secrets, after all. Hidden ones yes, but especially prying out other people's.

"Then what do you have to trade?" Draco asked, trying (and mostly failing) to not sound snide.

"Why, what you asked for earlier..." Harry said, doing a decent job of mimicking Draco's attitude.

A pause broke the conversation, growing pregnant in length, as Draco scrambled to figure out what he had asked for.

Harry finally took pity on the blond and said, "You wanted to hear about my ... time at Hogwarts. The interesting parts..."

Oh, right, Draco thought, before nodding. "That'll do."

And, as if to punctuate his remark, the big black dog barked.

* * *

Snape stepped out of Draco's room, closing the door behind him. Manners always, he repeated mentally, with a bit of a smirk. As he stood there, Theodore walked by - his mind clearly on other things. Snape's thin hand closed around the boy's shoulder, making him jump. At this, Snape smirked visibly. Surprises were there to remind children to be more alert, after all. They had certainly taught him that, often enough.

"Where is Mister Malfoy, Mister Nott?" Snape asked, in a low tone reminiscent of a hiss.

Confused, Nott looked up at his head of House, his head turned halfway round to face him as best he could, still restrained by that nearly skeletal hand digging into his shoulder. Darting a quick glance at the door, he said, "Why, his door says he's studying in his room, see the "s"?"

"Oh? And when was the last time you saw him?" Snape said, the prompting as obvious as if someone else had wasted ten words.

"Potions, our last class on Friday, sir. When he decides to study, he's like as not to stay inside the entire weekend." Nott said helpfully and not fazed by the gathering anger in Professor Snape's face.

"How long has he been studying like this? Every weekend?" Snape asked, the two questions separated by a hairsbreadth.

"Oh, since the beginning of second year, at least... maybe a bit earlier..." Nott said, as if it was usual that the Malfoy heir would spend his entire weekend studying... repeatedly.

Snape frowned, and realized that, in all probability, none of the boys would have seen him. As he thought, the possibility that Draco Malfoy was attempting some sort of elaborate, insidious, Slytherin plan seemed to loom over all the others, even over Snape's tall, ghastly form.

Time to eliminate the easy ideas first. And that meant a joyous visit to his delightful friend Lucius. And his even more stubborn and overbearing wife Narcissa. At least he'd be showing up unannounced. Far harder for Narcissa to spring a pureblood on him, that way. If that happened, he was sure he wouldn't be out before midnight, and he had papers to grade!

[a/n: yes, in Snape's imagination, he is ghastly. I imagine he thinks it something of a compliment. He's never been deluded enough to think himself handsome, after all. But striking and fearsome and creepy? Oh, yes, he can definitely pull those off.

UpNext: The continuation of D/H conversation, and Snape's delicious journey to the Isle of Pain and Irritation... otherwise known as Malfoy Manor]


	7. Draco and Harry ate this chapter

[a/n: Last chapter is dedicated to the guy at University who literally barricaded himself into his room for a weekend. Apparently his suitemates panicked (thinking he was quite possible dead) and called campus police. Anyway, that's Draco's reason why no one's squealed to Snape on exactly how long he's been missing (since Potter really didn't think to ask)]

Harry took a deep breath, exhaled, and then took another. "You remember our first broomstick lesson?"

"With Longbottom's rememberall? How could I forget?"

"You were really a jerk back then, you know that?"

"I suppose. Standard tactic, really. If you want to be on top, make sure someone's below you. If they aren't already, give them a push."

Potter looked at Malfoy, for a quiet moment. Then, idly, he turned and looked at the black dog, whose tail was slightly swishing in some weak semblance of a wag. "If you were really above everyone, though, you wouldn't need to, would you?" Malfoy's silence was really all the confirmation Potter needed. "You were nervous, weren't you?"

Malfoy moved quickly to the dog, ruffling his head by tugging roughly on an ear. "He doesn't know what he's talking about, does he?" The big black dog simply lifted one of his big floppy ears (the one Draco wasn't tugging on), and then shook his head.

Harry responded acidly, "Of course, Gryffindors never get nervous. Too much courage for that, and too little sense."

Draco flashed him a sudden grin, "Your Snape impression could use work. And don't let him catch you doing that, he'd be livid." _More because it's you than that someone's imitating him. If there's nothing else you can say about the man, he's certainly memorable._

"Well, after I made that catch, you saw McGonagall leading me off."

"Of course... I was kippered, thinkin' you were about to get a hidin' or somethin'." Draco smirked at the memory.

"Betcha you were surprised when I came back as a Seeker, werentcha?"

"Surprised?! I was steamed, was what I was... Why else would I have challenged you to a duel? And who the hell makes a first year Seeker anyway?" Draco said, standing up and glaring at Potter.

"How was I supposed to know that? I didn't know a _thing_ about the game, and hadn't sat a broomstick before in my life. Had I known... I would have just said no."

Draco goggled at Potter, a look that Potter found unbelievably funny. "Really? You'd have said no to playing on the team?"

Harry Potter looked at Draco like he was silly, "Of course. There was bound to be someone better, wasn't there? I didn't even know that was a skilled position! I don't know what the Prof was thinking, and I still don't!" **

Slinging an arm around Harry's shoulder, Draco smiles as if he's just won King of the World, "Merlin, you're a better lad than I thought!"

"You know I showed up to that duel at midnight, right?" Harry asked quietly, slightly - but only slightly, unnerved by Draco's rapid mood swings. At that, the black dog whipped his head around, both ears upright and swiveled to face Harry.

"And how was I supposed to know that, as even I knew better than to sneak around just for a stupid duel?" Draco said, smiling cheekily.

"We waited there for you, you know."

"We?"

"Had to have a second, you know?"

"Oh, so Weasley came along... Naive helpless Gryffindors, don't even see a trick coming before it kicks them in the arse."

"Hey! I Resent that!"

"You should. It was meant as an insult. I'd hex you, but you're wandless, and that would be unfair." Draco said this entirely straight, and then grinned. "And we all know that Slytherins are paragons of fairness and justice." They both laughed, the black dog opening his mouth and panting the entire time, in a doggy grin.

"Well, we almost got caught - by Filch of course, so we ran away. We didn't know the castle very well, and we kinda got lost. It was only when we opened the door on Fluffy that we realized we were in the third floor corridor..."

Draco blinked. _That didn't make sense..._ Draco blinked again. _That STILL didn't make ANY sense._ "You got lost, and wound up in the third floor corridor? And who - or what - is a Fluffy?" Draco was very much concerned, even though this had happened in the past. Fluffies could be anywhere, after all... And Draco wasn't the type who thought every monster (or stray floating bit of magic) needed to be fought. In fact, he rather preferred running away, when that was at all reasonable.

Potter nodded, and said, "Fluffy is a three headed dog-monster, about eight times as big as your horse."

Draco responded, as anyone might, "Who the hell names a Cerberus _Fluffy_?!"

"Hagrid, of course." Potter said, as if this was the most normal thing in the world. "Your Snape impression is buckets better than mine, by the way." Potter shook his head wryly, and said, "It gets better. Fluffy was guarding a trapdoor... to where, we couldn't see, as it promptly tried to lunge out of the room to bite us. We ran the whole way back to the Tower."

No longer agog, Draco simply looked at Potter, and slowly, softly said, "you're mental, you know that?"

"Yup. Your story."

"When I was seven, I went out to Diagon's Alley for ice cream. My father was with me, and we had ordered three different flavors to make a green and purple and blue sundae. I ate the whole thing, and I was soo full. As the waitress was cleaning up, I told her, 'When I grow up to be the next Dark Lord, we're going to get ice cream for free every day!' " Draco's eyes studied Potter closely, surprised at Potter's lack of judgement and then surprised at himself for not giving the Gryff a little credit.

"Already plotting to be a Dark Lord, at the tender age of seven?" Potter's grin showed an alarming amount of teeth, before he started laughing. "Tell me you weren't serious."

"Oh, I was perfectly serious. I wanted to make sure every child could have ice cream. It was the perfect grandiose gesture." Draco's eyes sparkled with merriment. "And you know how much Malfoy's dote on grand gestures."

"Wow, so you do have a selfless bone in your body." Potter said, his humor deflecting his thoughts.

"Had. Such a pity the waitress had to ruin the whole thing by collapsing in tears." Draco said, his voice completely passionless, as his hands began to thread themselves in the black dog's thick and matted fur.

Harry Potter let the silence grow, knowing that Draco needed a bit of time to figure out what he wanted to say.

"I didn't really know much about the Dark Lord Position, at that point, only that it came with a lot of power. I especially didn't know about the recent Dark Lord, or the Wizarding War." Draco, in a purely calculated motion, bit his lower lip, dragging it out again over his teeth. "I didn't mean to hurt that pretty woman. At age seven, I thought I had broken the world - I had made an _adult_ cry."

"Then what happened?" Potter asked.

"My father stood up, shielding me from the sight of her, slammed down about ten galleons (a hundred times the price of the ice cream, I'm sure), and flooed me home as quick as he could." Draco looked down at the dog's ruff, his hands threaded completely into two separate mats of hair. "That was the day I learned about war, and death, and what being a Dark Lord really means. And sure, my parents may have worked for him - worshipped him, even, maybe - but he scared the pants off _everyone_ , friend and foe alike."

* * *

Outside the main hall, Narcissa Malfoy stood, her heart in her hands just as surely as her wand was. From her vantage, she heard a floury explosion, and then an inhuman scream, cut finely off. _Boys,_ she thought wryly, glad no one was seriously injured.

**[a/n: I know grammar. Harry is thirteen, and rather upset. his is slipping]

[a/n: writing Draco's childhood stories is pretty hard. Anyone got good ones from being a kid? Also, in case its completely unclear, that's Snape and Mr Malfoy in the Main Hall of Malfoy Manor.]


	8. A Dire Dinner, Full of Discontent

Severus was _beyond_ bored, his patience tested again and again by Narcissa's incessant matchmaking. He was coming to the point where he would generally storm off, which was good, as he hadn't learned a jot about what he had come here for. Not a word about their son, and that boded ill. Very poorly, if he dwelled on it, which he had _plenty_ of time to do, as Narcissa had just moved onto Miss Cooper, regaling him with her mostly invented virtues. For you see, Severus knew about Miss Cooper's virtues, in fact, he could count them on one thumb. Green, of course. In one of those little ironies, she was prone to jealousy as well. It would be a horrible match, but Narcissa seemed determined to dredge up every single one of her friends, acquaintances, and even the "we've met, I think" set. Not that it worked, Severus wasn't interested in any of them. Not that he wanted her knowing that, of course. _He really didn't need her remembering why he might not be interested._ After all, that was the trouble with old friends, _they knew too much._ He merely pretended to be a committed bachelor, waiting for the "right woman" to come along. At least this time he had dropped by unannounced - give Narcissa a moment and she'd drop three Misses on his head, and have them all vying for his company. Not that any of them could really stand him, and if he showed the leastest scrap of interest, half the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs would blush and disapparate. But he'd learned his lesson after the last witch he had scared off, when Narcissa kept "accidentally" inviting them to teatimes together. It went on for months, and she was worse than usual if he declined.

Lucius, the bloody bastard, just looked at his friend, and smirked. He'd have his time to speak, too, when they were in the Smoking Room. But Severus already knew the outcome there - if Draco had been at the house, Narcissa would have mentioned it. Hell and blazes, if Draco was the _leastest bit_ upset with Hogwarts, Narcissa would have mentioned it... Or if he was hiding at a friend's house (what friends? Severus' brain responded drolly).

* * *

Harry Potter shook his head, thinking about exactly what it was like to learn everything you thought knew was a lie. "You know I grew up Muggle, right? My uncle told me that my parents had died in a drunken driving accident. When Hagrid showed up - the night before I met you, actually, I learned the truth. Before that, war had looked like something that happened a long way away, and certainly didn't happen to anyone's _mother_."

"So you didn't grow up as the Hero of the Wizarding World?" Draco said with a sharp, toothy smile.

"Nope, not that Snape ever would listen to that..." Potter responded.

"You'd have to have the balls to tell him first, wouldn't you?" And Draco's voice was mocking, but not nearly as mean as it would have been at Hogwarts.

"Sir, Sir Snape, please, you've got me all wrong. I'm not arrogant, and I'm not my father, and my breath isn't bad enough to break Potions."

At that, Draco was guffawing, the black dog too looked to be laughing, his tail wagging.

Draco listened to this intently, less for what exactly Harry was saying, than for what Harry wasn't saying. Beside him, the big black dog whined, and rubbed himself against Potter. Through Draco's head the question ran, round and round again, _What was Potter hiding?_

"Okay, so where was I? Oh, Harry Potter's the Saviour Day." Harry Potter said snarkily.

"You're getting better at this snark thing." Draco said appreciatively.

With an air of boyish excitement, Draco continued, "So what exactly happened on Halloween?", recalling all the wild tales he had heard, most of which had three Gryffindors encountering a mountain troll. Of course all accounts varied on how this happened, and why, and most importantly, what the results were. He was nearly certain the ones that sent all three kids to the infirmary were wrong, as he had been there himself (out of pure curiosity, because why not?), and they hadn't been there the next day... Draco was starting to realize exactly how interesting (in mostly a bad way) Potter's magical life had been.

"Well, the whole thing really seemed silly to me, you know? They're celebrating the day my parents died, you know? And with candies and sugarplums and puddings! But... um... any excuse for a bite to eat?"

"Now you sound like Weasel"

"Yeah, well, I was down there, and I know you were too... When Quirrell started yelling about there being a troll in the dungeons..."

"... and?"

"Well, earlier in the day, Ron had said that Hermione was such a collossal know-it-all and that was why she didn't have any friends..."

"Wow, and here I thought you Gryffindors were going to stick together!"

"Well, we weren't her friends then, and I know, that's really not much of an excuse. But when they started to gather everyone towards the Houses, we noticed that Hermione wasn't there."

"Typical Granger - skipping the sweets for a library treat?"

"Hardly, she was still in the lav, balling her eyes out"

"And how'd you know that, Potter, were you peeping?" Draco's eyes sparkled merrily.

"Nah, Lavender had seen Granger there before the feast... And Ron wasn't about to leave Hermione there, not with no warning about the troll...and I came too, I guess." Harry shrugged, "Maybe I felt guilty about not saying something to her earlier, after all, Ron had blown up at her for no reason - she was really just trying to help."

"Gryffindors." Malfoy said, as if it explained everything. And in this case, it probably did.

"So we went looking for her... but as we went down into the dungeons, we saw Professor Snape headed the other way, and in quite a hurry. Suspicious, no? When all the other Heads were accompanying their students? So, we decided to follow him..."

"You followed Professor Snape - while a classmate of yours was in danger? Weren't you worried he'd have your guts for garters?"

"Of course, but... as we were following him, we smelled this incredibly foul odor, and turned to follow that...It led us straight to a mountain troll, as big as a dungeon corridor."

"A mountain troll. You actually managed to find the one place in Hogwarts that had a Mountain Troll?"

"Yeah, I know, my luck sucks. And two places, actually." Draco badly wanted to ask about that one, but figured he'd better keep quiet.

"We locked the mountain troll into the room it had just entered..."

"Finally, some common sense... and then you went to get a teacher, and everything turned sunshine and roses." Draco smiled.

"Well, that was the plan, until Hermione screamed... from inside the room with the troll."

"There really aren't enough words in the English language to describe your stupidity, are there, Potter?"

Harry smirked back, "I rather think Snape thinks up new ones every year..."

"And then what happened?"

"well, not even you'd leave her there, right?"

"I'd have gotten a prefect in the first place! But... yeah... even if it was bloody _Granger_..." Malfoy said, as Potter eyed him closely.

"So we both rushed in there to distract it - because firsties don't kill trolls, ever...I wound up with my wand stuck up its nose, and Ron levitated its club over its head, and knocked it unconscious."

"Wow, you really managed that? Impressive, although I must confess I liked the story where you splattered the walls with it's corpse..."

Harry shudders and says, "we weren't out of the woods yet, because just then the teachers arrived. McGonagall, Snape and Quirrell - who was back to being utterly useless, as opposed to spreading panic in the great hall. I thought Snape was going to give me detention for a month"

"Isn't that your usual punishment for say forgetting your homework?"

"Yeah, but I was still tryng in his class, and hadn't gotten that particular punishment yet... And he seemed furious. But then Hermione spoke up, and lied to protect us, telling the teachers that she was the one who went searching for the troll."

Malfoy was laughing, "You think anyone believed her?"

"Now? Of course not! Well, maybe Quirrel, one could never tell with that man." Harry shook his head and said, "They didn't call her on it, and we wound up getting 5 points cumulative for rescuing her."

"You took on a mountain troll, and actually _won_ points? _Five_ points?" Malfoy was rolling on the ground laughing.

"Pathetic, isn't it? I guess points for bravery are a bit more common when you're dealing with McGonagall." Potter said.

"I wouldn't know."

"That's nearly the end of the story, other than noticing Snape walking with a limp a few days after... He had nicked a library book that I was reading, and I wanted him to give it back, so I followed him... I found him being bandaged by Filch, and talking about that three-headed dog - and when he noticed i was there, he yelled at me to get out. Suspicious, I thought - not his words, but why was he with Fluffy?"

"I'm not sure I've ever seen Snape go near Hagrids creatures except when he wanted potion ingredients..." Draco nodded, and said, "My turn."

"When I was four and a half, I refused to eat anything other than brussel sprouts. I know, I was an odd child, and they were good."

Harry was sniggering at the choice, "brussel sprouts" he gasped breathlessly.

"Well, my parents were beside themselves. The house elves were beside themselves. Even my grandparents were beside themselves."

"You were a stubborn kid, weren't you?"

"Yes, this had gone on for weeks, before my parents plead with my godfather to fix it."

"You've got a godfather?"

"Yes, he's not as entertaining as your godfather, but he's actually pretty decent."

"Wait, _I've_ got a godfather?!" Harry started to see red, and he knew his face was turning the color of a well-ripened tomato. "Why doesn't anyone ever tell me _anything_!"

[a/n: Snerk. Draco assumes people actually bothered to tell Harry about things he has a right to know about. Silly Draco]

* * *

Severus Snape slunk into his bedroom, dead tired from the tender mercies of his "friends" the Malfoys. Lucius had taken up even more time talking with him about his current triumphs at the Ministry. Not to mention the budget for Hogwarts. Not that Snape would ever dare ask for a pay raise... Lucius spent most of his time talking Dumbledore down from his outlandish budgets... Snape sometimes wondered if they merely argued to have something to do at the Board Meetings other than glare at each other. Because that would take _all day_. It was far too late for Snape to be buggered into bothering finding out where his blasted Godson had got off to, anyway. Muttering to himself, he cast a spell more notable for its abscence than its presence... it was a diagnostic spell that could be cast on anyone, so long as you knew his true name. Snape had even had occasion to use it on Tom Riddle himself, at a point he'd rather not dwell on. As he saw the results of the spell, Snape felt a chill crawl over his lanky limbs, his hair standing on end. If Draco was safe, it should give an indication of what health he was in. And, in the first moment, it had looked like Draco was fine... But, as Snape stared in horror, he saw the dial ticking down, as if someone was draining Draco's life force. But who? And _why?_ He'd have believed it if it was Potter, of course, the Dark Lord was out for his blood, and even insubstantial as he hopefully was, he remained a deadly threat.

[a/n: And a dire portent for the ending! Sorry for the suspense, except nope i'm not!

Read and review, particularly if you know what's going on with the wellness spell!]


	9. Open Your Ears, Shutter Your Eyes

Draco smirked, an expression Harry was surprised to see on his face... Had it only been two days? It seemed like longer... "Well, _I_ didn't tell you because we didn't exactly get along."

And Harry, through all his voluminous, billowing rage, had to laugh at that. And, as he guffawed, he had to ask himself, _What had he been thinking? How the hell was Malfoy, of all people, supposed to know why no one mentioned it?_ As Harry controlled his laughter, finally, he said, "Well, there is that, I suppose. What d'ya know?" And Harry Potter tried to put as little of his curiosity into it, and as much indifference as he could.

Naturally, Draco Malfoy caught it, even distracted by wondering on the out-of-character laughter _it really wasn't that funny, was it?_ "Buckets. Your godfather - Sirius Black, is my mother's cousin. She grew up knowing him, but that's not who I learned what he was like from. She remembers him as a carefree, wild child - irrepressible, really. She says he always seemed out of place in the Black Household, where children were supposed to be seen and not heard."

Harry was hanging on every word, sensing the subtle flow of Malfoy's thoughts. Yet, even as he knew that something was off (there was more to the tale), Harry couldn't help but picture a child like that... A bit like Ron, a bit like the twins, mischief seeping out of every pore. A flash of a thought - what had Malfoy been like as a kid? Before this, Harry thought, he would have said spoiled rotten, and perhaps that was still the truth. But who really sees themselves like that, he wondered?

"As you might imagine, Sirius was always in trouble. And then he went to Hogwarts, and everything got a whole lot worse." Malfoy threaded his fingers together, and then unthreaded them. "Sirius got sorted into Gryffindor, which would have been bad enough. His _entire_ family was Slytherin, you know. Imagine if Ron Weasley had gotten sorted into Slytherin?"

Harry's face threatened an irrepressible smile, at Ron-who-hated-Slytherins winding up in that house, by hook or by crook. Shaking his head, he thought of all the Weasley's faces, every one etched in shock... and nervousness, and just a touch of disquieted disbelief. Molly's hushed question of, "did we raise him wrong?" said with just a touch of frazzled nerves.

"Oh." Harry said, eloquent as usual. Beneath his fingers, the big black dog twitched with repressed energy - the need for _fun_ , for anything that wasn't serious - or Sirius, for that matter. He just wanted to _relax_... and protect these boys. But, even as a dog, he knew some things needed to be said, even if he really, really didn't want anyone to hear them.

"He got along with Potter, you know. They were troublemakers, both, and shameless flirts to boot."

"Not that you have much room to talk about that last one, Malfoy." Potter said oddly lightheartedly.

"I'm a Malfoy, Potter, _all_ the girls come to me." Draco Malfoy drawled haughtily. At Potter's smirk, Draco said, softer, "even if I don't want them to."

There were murky oceans of meaning in that phrase, and Harry Potter caught himself just staring at Malfoy. The moment passed in an eternity, and the story continued.

"Potter and Black were assholes, pure and simple. If you ever, even once, wonder why Slytherins think Gryffindors are self-righteous and smug, you'd only have to look at them to understand."

With green eyes tightly focused, Harry Potter was still, and silent, and listening. It was a pose that the black dog knew well.

"They didn't make friends like Hufflepuffs do... truth be told, I'm not sure many could stand them. Pettigrew was friends with them, but he was worse than Longbottom - a shivering little rat of a human being. Maybe he liked their "friendship" as it got him a bit of protection. They had one other friend, too, but he was... somehow unfit to be at Hogwarts."

"Muggleborn?"

"No, definitely not that. Something... worse, I think. I've never been able to figure it out, really. He's the latest Dark Arts teacher, you know?"

"No, I hadn't... he knew my father well?" Harry's voice shook with nameless emotion. "He didn't say a thing..."

"Maybe he thought you'd say something first?" Draco ventured uneasily, "once you're back at hogwarts..."

Harry's hands shook as he pushed his glasses up his nose again, "Yeah... maybe Hermione will know what's wrong with him..." If anything, Potter mentally commented. Draco Malfoy might have been mistaken...

"Your father and his three friends used to pick on Slytherins. Well, that's not quite true. One in particular - my godfather." Draco added the last part quieter, knowing it wasn't quite a breech of confidentiality to tell Potter something everyone knew.

"When my father went to Hogwarts, he was at the top of everything... But if you want to know why I grabbed Neville's Rememberall." Draco looked away briefly, still speaking, as he looked into the dog's deep brown eyes. "I wasn't going to be at the bottom, for anything. It's always easier to stand on someone else, than to climb yourself." Draco's silver voice was tinged with regret.

"My father..." Harry ground out, his voice gravel, "was a bully. That's what you're telling me, isn't it?" His green eyes blazed with a fire full hot enough to be Godric's own. Malfoy turned away from it before speaking softly, "Yeah."

"All anyone ever told me was how popular he was, how he was a Quiddich star... Why didn't they just _tell_ me?" Potter reflected that he well knew what it was like to be bullied, and no matter what his father had done for him personally, this was also James Potter - and, Harry felt suddenly, he didn't particularly  like the man.

"Bad manners to speak ill of the dead... figured someone else mentioned it... or maybe you just weren't listening." Malfoy said quietly, knowing that each of those were the truth, "Of course, there's always blatant favoritism. That might have been Dumbledore's reasoning." he said suddenly - deftly conjuring a distraction precisely when it was needed.

"I think it's time I went to bed." Potter ground out, his voice heavy with unvoiced thoughts.

[a/n: This totally wasn't supposed to happen! Oh, well, conversations and characters lead where they will. Read and Review, or the puppy gets it!]


	10. After a long night, an even longer day

[a/n: This is Monday. Harry was kidnapped Friday Night.]

Severus Snape woke blearily from a fuzzy, dark dream. Something about pygmypuffs landing on his head and smothering him, with Black and Potter laughing in the background. Blast! It was nearly time for breakfast. With speed borne from harsh training (Lucius Malfoy was rather a hard taskmaster about dressing, and he had been prefect for multiple years), Snape was dressed and heading down to the Great Hall for breakfast. More than halfway through breakfast, but he'd be damned if he'd let the blighters see him not there. His scowl was almost darker than usual as he entered near the Staff Table, wincing at Flitwick's shrill voice recounting one of Granger's wonderful, awesome, daring Charms that she had performed in class. Joy. With a sharp glare, Snape's attention focused on the Gryffindor table, and his perpetual scowl deepened as he saw that Harry Potter wasn't there - that boy spelled Trouble with a capital T. As if he needed _more_ things on his plate! Did he dare to hope that Potter had been injured? Something not too dire, but enough to keep him in the hospital wing for a few weeks (and more importantly, out of Potions?)... With his luck, he'd be forced to deal with Potter whinging about drinking potions - _perfectly ordinary_ potions, simply on the off chance that Snape might poison him; which might have been more thinkable if Snape wasn't hungover, and wouldn't have then been required to save Potter's sorry ass.

A glance at the Slytherin table revealed exactly what he had suspected - a subtle absence of Malfoy, which was causing both Crabbe and Goyle to act up more than usual. Typical clods and lummoxes both. They were smarter than they looked, sure... but that wasn't saying much.

He'd need to talk with his Slytherins, and soon. Before the end of the night, he thought. Unless Draco Malfoy dragged his sorry bum in from wherever he'd... wandered off to. Snape nearly snarled - his luck wasn't that good.

* * *

Morning Potions right after breakfast with the Slytherins and Gryffindors. Potter's class too - and Malfoy, who was almost as much trouble, and arrogant to boot! Not that Potter wasn't arrogance personified, but Draco had the Malfoy Presence that simply reeked of unshakeable confidence that _I am better than you and I know it_. Holding in a snarly grin, Snape thought, _At least Potter knows how to shake by the time I'm done with him._ Striding into the room (and slamming the door behind him as an afterthought), Snape strode to the front of the room and whirled, looking at his pupils. One missing - Potter. Granger and Weasley were exchanging nervous glances, Granger near to hopping up and saying something, even if it wasn't prompted _or necessary_.

Snape strode over, determined to have at least a little fun, and glared at the two Gryffindors as he leaned over them, "Has Mr. Potter injured himself? Do you know of any reason why he's not here right now?"

"No, sir." Granger said, her voice clear in the sudden silence of an attentive Potions classroom.

Weasley confirmed, "Haven't seen him all weekend, actually." Snape caught a sudden, fleeting glimpse of something he didn't want to see - a dark and shadowy wormlike presence in his mind, small yet fearsome. Mentally, he whirled away from it, knowing that it was likely to sneak up on him unannounced.

"I find it extremely hard to believe that you weren't both accomplices to his mischief. Both of you, follow me." Snape snapped as he straightened. Towards the rest of the class (as he was in the middle, he merely belted orders, assuming any who didn't listen would be helped by someone who did), "Read the first three chapters, and summarize the differences between the potions."

He successfully fought down a smirk at Millie's indignant, "But.. that's the difference between Lust Potions, Babbling Potions, and Glamour Potions!" It would certainly make an interesting assignment, if nearly ungradeable (hence why he hadn't given a length - the wise would be both concise and forthright, and the fools would turn in two inches).

As the door closed behind them, Snape paused a moment, and then turned toward his office. He strode swiftly, and waited until he had entered before he said a word. "Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World," Snape's tone was sulfuric acid, reeking of brimstone, "appears to be missing - _when_ was the last time you saw him, and why didn't you report this _immediately_?!"

"I saw him at Dinner in the Great Hall on Friday, Professor Snape." Hermione said, her voice entirely too strained to sound confident.

"I saw him after dinner, in the Gryffindor Common Room." Ron replied, his face whiter than a bedsheet, freckles standing out in relief.

"Did either of you see him asleep?" Snape asked with an air of menace.

"No, but..."

"But what, Mr. Weasley?"

"On Saturday, I saw his bed had been mussed."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"Well, sir, he wrote Ron a note, saying that he'd be out flying..."

"A note?"

"Yes, sir, and I received one the next day - he said he was skiving off to enjoy the day, and that he'd like to copy my homework... before your class..." The last bit was added in almost a whisper - but a clearly audible one at that.

"And you didn't think this was at all unusual?" Snape said, as a very grim thought was stalking him through his own skull. _Not going to look at you, if I don't look at you, you don't exist._

"It was, a little - he's normally a bit of a loner, but... we'd generally see him for meals at least."

"Bring me the notes." Snape said crisply. "We will adjourn and meet in Dumbledore's office."

* * *

"What do you make of these notes?" Dumbledore asked.

Snape glowered darkly, "It would appear that Mr. Potter has disappeared - and not last night by the looks of it."

"He'd have told us if he was going to do something..." Ron bleated.

"I'm certain if he had intended to disappear, you'd have been right alongside him." Snape said waspily.

"But it's his handwriting!" Granger barked.

"Something easily copied, I assure you." Snape drawled out with just a hint of vehemence. He fingered the two notes - the first, " _Gone flying, catch you later."_ was well done - almost suspiciously so. It was the second that told Snape who did it - Ron claimed he found it in his Potions book when he was studying with Granger on Sunday in the library... " _Weekend's too nice to waste. Cover for me with 'Mione, I owe you one! See if you can get her to let me copy just this once. Gracias, Harry"_ Long association with the boy had taught Snape a bit about him - he had a tendency to babble, and most importantly - Snape'd eat his hat if the child knew Spanish _. "_ If I may?" Snape rewrote the words on a different piece of paper, and burnt the evidence of tampering.

"Is Harry in any danger?" Granger asked, pale at the thought that their lax manners might have put her friend at risk.

"That is impossible to say, until we confirm who has taken him. If, that is, he hasn't wandered into a werewolf and gotten himself killed," Snape growled, enjoying the rather disconcerted look on Dumbledore's face, and said, "If you have nothing else to contribute, you may leave."

* * *

"Dumbledore, I fear I must be the one to find Potter this time."

"Oh, and why's that?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling.

"Vows press tightly on me, and I'd not see him dead, you know this."

"Not Lupin?"

"The werewolf? Surely you're joking, sir!" _No, it would be a very terrible idea if Lupin caught Draco and Harry together - up to god knows what._

"Albus, call me Albus."

"Albus, then. I fear it won't be the Forbidden Forest, this time - and if that's the case, it may be some time before Potter can be located."

"Very well, my lad, you know I trust you completely."

"I'll send word when I may."

"Perhaps in a riddle this time?" Dumbledore suggested hopefully, which did nothing to improve Snape's mood or his throbbing headache.

"Perhaps. Nonetheless, there is another matter I ought to discuss with you. Draco Malfoy is missing."

"Related?"

"Who can really say? It would be a most unusual choice of companions - were either to get the idea to go gallivanting off into the sunset."

"I'll keep Lucius Malfoy as occupied as necessary. Preferably far away from Hogwarts." Dumbledore said, his eyes for once serious. Lucius Malfoy was not one to joke, chuckle, or guffaw about. He was quick as a snake, and twice as devious.

Snape smirked, and headed towards his next class - Malfoy may be devious, but Dumbledore was pure chaos. It tended to drive Malfoy to distraction, which would be a very good thing for all concerned.

[a/n: Up Next: Snape sets his affairs in order. Still Monday, just after lessons.]


	11. Glints of Green and Gold

Harry stretched in the morning by the cold fire embers, hearing the answering yip of that big black dog - with the chuffy, scruffy fur that seemed to reek of ill-use. Standing, he strode towards the dog, gathering him in his arms, saying, "What happened to _you_ , pup? Whatever happened to you?"

"Nothing good, that's for sure. Merlin, I'm surprised he's not lamed up," _or something worse_ , Draco thought but did not exactly say.

"You can't say Merlin anymore - not as a swear. It's a proper name in Muggleland, and you'll only draw attention..." Harry Potter corrected, halfway unsure as to what he was doing.

Startled, Draco Malfoy did a doubletake, his eyes widening - his mouth parting, as if he wanted to say something, before thinking better of the whole thing. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and looked towards the sky.

"Better get saddled, eh?" Potter said, with a smile.

"Better let me do that... see if you can find food."

Looking down at the dog, Potter said softly, "Good thing you know how to hunt, pup." The dog responded with a single, attentive - yet somehow sad - wag of its tail.

Potter began looking through the bag, halfway surprised to be trusted - before recalling that Malfoy really didn't have any choice. Harry Potter still didn't know what to do... He found some dried oats in the bag, and wondered if they were for the horses. Well, at any rate, they did still have some water.

"Are these for the horses, Malfoy?" Potter asked, as he watched Malfoy try to settle the saddle on the horse's back - without having the horse toss it off in disgust.

"Apparently today we dine like we have four hooves and a tail, Potter." Malfoy said, in a decent approximation of his normal drawl - the personification of arrogance.

"Nice" Potter said, as he poked at the embers, feeding them a bit of wood. It would take a while to cook the oats, anyway. When he dug into the bag for more, he noted that there was a foolscap, and that it said, "Moody's AllInclusive Muggle Lifesaving Equipment." Huh, Harry thought, I wonder why he's got that...?

As Harry Potter stirred the oats, he looked up at Draco who was adjusting the saddle by kneeing Harry's ride in the gut. Like a flash, Draco tightened the saddle - Harry thought, he really does know what he's doing... "Draco..."

"Yes, Harry?"

"What is your house like? I've never been."

Draco smirked, before smiling, "That's your own fault, you know - I asked you to be my friend."

Harry Potter nodded, not taking offense - "Still, I'm curious."

Draco said, "Mostly white, particularly from the outside. Someone liked marble, I suppose."

"you didn't learn architecture like you learned lineages?"

"I didn't learn architecture like I was supposed to learn lineages, you mean." Draco said with a crafty smile, "I was a terror to my tutors, you know."

"Worse than the Weasley twins?"

"Of course - I'd drive the hired help into despair, and then when they, in frustration, were ready to resign - exasperatedly telling my mother exactly how impossible I was." Draco was mimicking the heated one-way argument, as Potter stifled his laughter, "Then, and only then, would I stroll in. My mother would quiz me, and I'd answer every question perfectly." Draco grinned and then said soberly, "none of them lasted a week past the argument. They'd see me smirking, and never be able to tell what was coming next."

"You know the worst part?" Draco said with a merry grin, "I never did a thing - the house elves were delighted to help their young master chase the obviously incompetent tutors out of the house."

"You got house elves to play pranks?" Harry said, his eyes lighting up with impending mischief.

"Of course, didn't you-?" Draco Malfoy's voice broke, as his eyes clouded slightly, "Nevermind, forget I asked." Straightening, his voice resolved back to the silken tones Potter was used to.

Draco continued, "My house is mostly white, with glints of green and gold. My bedsheets are green - but not because of Slytherin. I just like the color of grass, and it reminds me of being outside."

Harry Potter grinned in sympathy, recalling, "I think my happiest moments have been outside. Probably playing Quiddich."

Draco carefully hid a frown, smiling gently - and trying very hard not to smirk. "My house is so big, that I was often lost as a kid. Once, I thought I saw a ghost, and I ran away so hard that I wound up in another wing of the house entirely. Of course, that was because the 'ghost' was running after me."

Potter listened carefully.

"It was my godfather, of course. I hadn't even realized he was in the house - and for such a big man, he's quiet on his feet." Draco continued, "Would you believe what he told me, when he figured out I had thought he was a ghost? Draco, you should know that none of the Malfoys have ever had dark hair." Draco chuckled with glee, and Potter smirked, his laughter coming out as a gentle snort.


	12. Break something I dare you

Third period was Potions (as always), this time for the Fifth Years. As usual, the Weasley twins scampered into the room, tossing something that defied the Potion Master's rather voluminous imagination... was that a pigskin, attached to a pygmy puff? And were they both attached to three squawling pixies? And was this levitating monstrosity about to knock over one of the cauldrons? Apparently not, Snape thought, as he saw the hideously warped thing dive into the cauldron, hiding instinctively from the hungry grins of the twins.

The Hufflepuffs came in next, each one quieter than the next - were they really still afraid of him? Snape wondered. Maybe they were just naturally respectful, he thought with a snort. The rest of the Gryffindors traipsed in last, a hubub that threatened to knock three separate ingredients off the shelf in the back.

"Class! Your potion is on the board. Get brewing." With a wave of his hand, Snape allowed the words to be visible (it was a simple trigger to a precast spell but it never ceased to amaze those who hadn't known the trick. And since Filius preferred to focus on ever more elaborate Charms... few indeed learned it at all.)

The class got to work, and Severus' eyes softened in satisfaction. Stepping back into his office, he pulled out some of the Twins' Ventriloquism drops - that he had "happened" to confiscate from a young lad who hadn't had the sense to not use them in the Slytherin Common Room. Either he'd learn or he wouldn't, Severus thought with a shrug. Snape then opened his door, and -still half-shadowed in the near-darkness - whispered out to the twins, "Break something... I dare you." They looked up, trying to figure out who had said that, and as their gaze traveled the room twice, Snape stepped out, his mouth half-quirked in a frowny smile that didn't reach his sparkling eyes. The twins shared a glance, and then began whispering together... undoubtedly coming up with something creative. There were few people that Snape would trust with breaking something in his classrom - most _mistakes_ were destructive enough! Professor Snape outlined in his head the three _safer_ directions he might take to break this particular potion, each one threading in its particular color. He'd choose the one that would turn the potion into a mudgolem, crawling out of there and attempting to ooze over people, turning them into mudmen. Dangerous, if it found you while sleeping, but otherwise relatively harmless.

As was usual, the twins had found a different effect - their potion sparkled green, and Snape had only a mere moment to grunt in surprise, before with a wave of his wand, he pushed everyone (except the twins, who had already hit the deck) to the floor. "WEASLEYS!" Snape roared, "Detention, Tonight! Directly after dinner. As I eat early, I suggest you do as well - it would not do for you to be late." The twins broad grins wouldn't be shook off their faces, even as they tried to act chagrined. Snape shook his head, as he called time for the rest of the class (the twins had already failed this particular lesson). They could act innocent, could act angry - literally anything, except act chagrined. A pity that.

[a/n: what IS Snape setting up? Like many kids, they're just glad to be invited to the party...

Do I hear a review lurking out there in the audience? Please, come sit down and write yourself...]


	13. Lonely, but never alone

"You didn't hear about..." Harry said, turning to Draco with less wariness than he would have four days ago. "No, I suppose you didn't..."

"What, Potter?" Draco's voice was deliberately demanding, and yet not sharp - his eyes sparkling with interest, not true impatience. Though he did rather hope that Harry Potter would get on with it. He wasn't as stupid as Goyle, no matter what Snape claimed.

"Hagrid had told us that what he had gotten from Gringott's - that important whatever-it-was - was tied in some way to Nicholas Flamel." Harry Potter paused, for a moment, and then continued, "Who we didn't know a thing about."

"So you started reading?" Draco Malfoy said, vaguely remembering seeing the "Golden Trio" (what a ridiculous nickname) huddled in the library. And while it wasn't at all strange to see Granger there, he was suddenly realizing that she hadn't had the power to order her friends there, or the social status to bully them into it.

"Yeah, except then I got the idea to look in the Restricted Section." Harry paused for a moment, "We weren't having much luck anywhere else."

"A decent idea - how'd you expect to pull it off, though? A first year, in the Restricted Section?" Draco looked inquiringly at Harry, "You Do realize that means 'certainly not for first years' right?"

Harry's icy "Of course" only made Draco Malfoy grin - as open and wide a grin as Harry had felt after his first broomstick ride - before McGonagall informed him how nearly he had come to getting himself killed. Ask a stupid question, get a reliably annoyed response. Simple as clockwork. Still, Potter should be used to it by now, with Weasley as his friend.

"I had an invisibility cloak - which I _don't_ have _now_ , so don't think it'll help you out of any jams-" Draco was already shaking his head, warily - _why would Potter think his cloak would still even be around? Did he really buy a new cloak each summer?_

"After hours, I tried to sneak into the Restricted Section."

"Tried?"

"Snape's got ears as well as eyes, you know. And Filch has a cat with a decent nose."

"Did you get caught?" Draco couldn't help leaning closer. This was _interesting._

"Naw, but I stumbled into an old classroom. With a mirror that didn't show my reflection." Draco went completely still, his eyes blinking, once, twice.

"What did it show?" Draco asked, his voice quietly respectful, as if dragon's gold was pouring from Potter's lips, instead of simply schoolboy secrets.

"My mum, my da. Me. Just us, a family. Together." Harry said, and Draco thought his voice sounded strange, almost strangled. Almost as if the words were being torn from his throat.

"That's not all there is to it, is there?"

"No... Ron saw himself as Head Boy, clutching a Quiddich trophy."

"You brought Weasley on something sneaky?"

"Of course not, I took him the next night." Draco wasn't sure that wasn't a worse idea... but he realized that of course Potter would want to share something 'amazing' with his friends.

"Not Granger?" Draco spat the name, and regretted it not.

"No, she wouldn't have wanted to come. Not after hours. And we didn't need a lecture."

"What did you need?"

"Magic. Adventure."

"Ah, much is explained about the Great Harry Potter's Midnight Ramblings! In search of adventure, of all things! And searching for magic - in the magical world, where it's everywhere!" Draco's voice sounded briefly like the twins, the grandiousity counterbalanced by the stagecraft.

Harry responded first with a grin, and then a harder, more considering look. "I didn't know that you could sound like that."

"Oh, there's loads you don't know about me, Potter, simply loads."

* * *

Sixth period, 7th years. Snape dropped a well-written note on his prefects' desks. Leaning low, he said, "House meeting. 9 o'clock. Don't be late." After class, he rushed back to his rooms for a quick scrub before dinner. He planned to arrive on time, for once. He had a Gryffindor to bait, after all.

[a/n: Snape finds it a touch more difficult to extricate himself from Hogwarts. More duties, but mostly - he intends to come back.

Write a review, please!]


	14. Min and Sev

Severus Snape arrived for dinner precisely as the doors opened, with a few stray Hufflepuffs and a lone Ravenclaw (still reading, of course) drifting in behind him. He didn't see them, but he knew that the Hufflepuffs were giving each other quick, unsettled glances. It was Not Usual for him to be eating first, after all. In fact, Gavin there might have decided to eat early because it was not normal. Snape's malevolent gaze was known to be bad for the digestion.

"How many points do you think you'd give two of your precious Gryffindors - for saving the school? repeatedly?"

Minerva McGonagall turned, steel in her spine, to regard Snape quizzically, "I think precedent would suggest about 100 points apiece, would it not?"

And then, Minerva McGonagall did a doubletake, "Two-?! Severus, what have you _done_?"

Severus Snape was cool as a cucumber, responding dryly, "Nothing, as of yet. But when you do have the total, I would be most obliged if you'd share it with me."

"Share it with you-? Severus Tiberius Snape, just what is going on." Snape suppressed a smirk, knowing that pulling the now-cross Gryffindor's tail was one of his few joys in life.

"It would appear that I am to take a leave of absence. Family reasons, you understand." To which, Minerva McGonagall frankly gaped at him. She had known him thorough over ten years of teaching - and more than that if you counted as a child. And he had never, to her knowledge, mentioned a family of any sort. With Slytherins, that rarely meant things were summer sunshine and dandelion wine.

"You-" Snape nearly smirked again, as Minerva cut off, belatedly putting a few pieces together that she really ought to have had on the table earlier, "Did Dumbledore approve this?"

"Why, he very nearly suggested it." _There. One objective accomplished. Let her think it is Old Order Business._

"Oh. Well." Minerva straightened her robes, more in line with something Professor Sprout would do, but as she wasn't currently in animagus form, she was unable to lick her paw with the requisite nonchalance. She straightened suddenly, and said, "Professor Lupin!"

"Yes, quite." Severus Snape responded, his voice dripping with unfeigned venom. "It would appear out of hundreds of students, only two of your lions have even the marginal ability to be of help here."

"They will be justly rewarded, then!" Minerva said, her toothy smile dropping fifty years from her face.

Snape raised an eyebrow, before saying, "And just as justly punished. For all deeds, good and bad, ought to come with their own rewards." Snape smirked, only to lose it as he caught sight of Minerva's expression.

Minerva McGonagall was giving him a look that he'd never seen on her face before. It was wideeyed, and calculating, and a trifle stunned. "Severus, you didn't! You won't! You shan't!" She said, staccatto protests delivered sotto-voce (undoubtedly to avoid his Slytherins from eavesdropping. Few of them learned to read lips like he had. It was a bit of a Muggle pastime, after all - if a decidedly handy one.)

"Who's there to stop me from keeping a promise? Honor and Duty themselves ask me to keep my word, and I did notice a few _improvements_ I might suggest." _Not that I've told them yet of my plans. But there isn't a chance in Hades that they'd walk away from an opportunity like this._

[Minerva remembers what a beast Snape's pranks were - let alone the trouble she went to, in trying to actually pin one on him.

Write a review, i love you too!]


	15. Little different the second time around

Draco Malfoy looked at Harry Potter with eyes that looked somber beyond his years. "You realize, Potter, that hearing about my childhood is not at all like yours would probably have been..."

Harry Potter's owl-like gaze looked back at Draco Malfoy, as he asked, "What do you mean?"

"Well, it's not like my parents set out for me to be an only child. Your mum would probably have had at least a few children. It wouldn't have been just you." Malfoy remembered the look on his mother's face when the Greengrasses came over - it was jealousy, pure and simple. Slytherins tended to recognize avarice in others.

"Yeah," Harry said, looking down as he snudged his toes in the ground, before looking steadily at Malfoy, "But, I've seen pictures of my mum and da. I know what - who - they were. They existed. I've never seen these mythical brothers or sisters. Couldn't really wrap my head around them." Harry's soft, small smile was wistful, almost...

In a loud and grandiose voice, Harry deliberately broke the morose mood, "So by all means, tell on!"

"Ah! I just thought of a game I used to love to play." Draco's mouth was smiling - he looked all of seven, as he continued, conspiratorally, "I called it Pounce. All's you've got to do is suspend a wand up a ways - off a balcony works fine, off a chandelier even better. Cast a quiet lumos, and just a snifter of wind, and you've got a spot, dancing all over the place."

"I can almost see it."

"Well, the game's about catching the spot, you see. It's a quick little bugger and you have to be quicker to catch it." Malfoy said, smiling a Cheshire grin.

"I wish I had got to play games like that..." Harry said, and if he sounded a bit too wistful - was that possible? Malfoy knew better than to remark on it.

"Alright, fair's fair. You remember the game where I caught the snitch in less than five minutes?" Harry continued.

"Yeah, what of it?" Draco responded cautiously.

"You wouldn't believe how scared I was that Snape was going to do something."

"In front of everyone? Not very Slytherin that, surely?"

"Not if he did something overt, sure. Slytherin's known as the sneaky house for a reason, isn't it?"

"Oh, sure, but he wouldn't be reffing if he was going to do something."

"I thought he hated me enough that he might take any opportunity he could - until I learned that Dumbledore was going to be there. He may hate me, but it's not worth his job, is it?"

"You must have been thinking, 'who'd hire him, otherwise?'"

"Exactly, right?" Harry gave Draco a wild grin.

Draco looked back levelly, "My father'd hire him in a heartbeat. He may not be the most levelheaded teacher you've ever seen."

Harry snorted and muttered, "that's an understatement."

"But he does know potions, dead."

"I think you meant to say poisons."

"Those too, though I wasn't to mention it." Draco gave a crafty smile, "so of course, the reckless Gryffindor had to."

"After the game, I saw Snape stalk off towards the Forbidden Forest." Harry said, looking quiet as all traces of mirth disappeared from Draco's face. "I flew after him - wanted to see what he was up to, and - on a broomstick - I figured I was quicker than any beast."

"Not quicker than an arrow" Malfoy shot back, and Potter winced.

"I know that _now_ , yes. Children have a distinct tendency to think themselves immortal, as Snape keeps on spitting in my general direction." Harry said with some chagrin, missing the momentary look of confusion on Malfoy's face.

"They were talking about the Philosopher's Stone, about wanting to obtain it - I thought they meant steal it. Snape was looming over Quirrel, like he was trying to intimidate him." Harry shook his head, "And me? I didn't even know what the Philosopher's Stone was!" Draco's response was a tight grin. "I managed to get out of there without being caught, of course - you'd have heard the yelling from the stands, otherwise."

"Obviously" Draco said, while internally frowning to himself. How much had he missed, living in the dungeons? He hadn't expected to be hearing, well, this much.

[a/n: Sorry if this is somewhat repeating the books. There'll be drama around the corner, I promise. Well, maybe a few corners.

Write a review, please!]


	16. Wolfsbane

Minerva McGonagall strode down the halls, her robes whipping around her nearly as fast as Severus Snape's tended to on a regular basis. She wanted to catch the Weasley twins before they got down to talk with Severus. Because she was a Gryffindor, yes, but she was also a teacher. And she knew, deep in the bottom of her heart, that Snape hadn't actually talked with the twins first.

"Mister and Mister Weasley! A moment please." She called, her commanding voice calling across the long hall like it might in a battle.

Gallivanting a turn, the Twins took one look at her - and looked particularly fearful. _So that's how they'll pay it. Perhaps I ought to just have invited them to tea?_ "Oh, no, ma'am! We're late for detention as it is!" They capered down the hall as if they were goats, twisting one student's tie, twirling a girl in an attempted jig.

"Brandy?" Severus Snape offered to the twins. They looked at each other, as if they suspected a trap. And well they should, Snape thought coldly. When wasn't a Slytherin gift a trap of one kind or another?

"We'd love some sir,"

"It's just we like fresh air more -"

"So not if it comes at the cost of more detentions!"

"I don't think you'll have to worry about those from me for some time." Snape said with a smirk.

"Are you going on holiday?"

"A sabbatical?"

"To a belfry perhaps?" Snape's mouth turned down at the hidden reference to a vampire. It was _not_ funny (mostly because it was so unreasonable, and hence meant that his students were complete idiots).

"A family matter." Snape said shortly, knowing that he was in for something ... interesting.

"Is it a mother?"

"Or a father?"

"Did you spring out of the ground?"

"Do you have _sisters_?"

"Could we meet them _please_?"

The twins exchanged a look, "You don't have children, then?"

"We wouldn't want you as a father!"

"Because you know you'd see the side of a paddle way too often for comfort, no doubt." The twins were a capering nuisance, but they were a smart one, and his disciplinarian side would have not taken well to the two pranksters. Not that they knew he had any other sides.

"I have a proposal for you, that needs to be kept under strictest secrecy."

"Our lips are sealed!" And the other twin mimed locking his lips and then eating the key. Severus Snape forbore to point out the contradiction.

Snape said skeptically, "Lives depend on it." _Mine_ more than yours, perhaps.

The Weasley twins shared a look and simply nodded at him. Snape reflected, It wasn't as if they didn't know how to be serious, they just rarely chose to be.

"In such business arrangements it is customary to share brandy first. It lubricates the negotiations."

The twins nodded, picking up the brandy, and Severus Snape was far from displeased to see them running spells across the liquid, ensuring that it was just as said.

The twins had the glasses nearly to their mouths, when Prof. Snape spoke. "You forgot to check the glasses."

The twins exchanged a frenetic look - the sort that said this single sentence was creating an entire product line.

Snape smirked, "A gift, if you will. A display of cunning and a guarantee that I make this deal in earnest."

The twins didn't actually spell the glasses before drinking. Snape waited until they had finished before drinking his own, swirling the last of it contemplatively.

"As I've said, I am leaving the school temporarily. However, I have certain obligations that need to be upheld, whether or not I am here."

The twins looked at each other, then pleadingly looked at him, "Please don't make us run Slytherin House, Br'er Rabbit!"

Hm. That was almost cunning. Snape, in return, hid a wince and said in tones of utmost certainty, "You will _never_ run Slytherin House." Not only would it happen over his dead body, the Malfoys (elder and junior) would both throw a fit, and they were on the Board!

Snape continued, "I have a potion to brew monthly. I am the only person capable of brewing it." A look of consternation crossed the twins faces. If he needed something, but was the only person to be able to do it... what _exactly_ did this have to do with them? The look changed to excited, because this promised to be more interesting than a bit of potion brewing.

"I believe, with proper application, that you two, together, will be capable of brewing it. Your magics harmonize particularly well - even for twins. And thus a potion that is well above your current skill, each and alone, is one that you can proficiently brew together."

Snape continued to swirl the brandy residue in his glass. "So, I've told you what I need. Are you interested in providing it?"

"Potentially." One twin said.

"Absolutely!" The other echoed.

"What's in it for us?" The first said.

"Well, to start out with, there is the safety of the school, and the pleasure of ensuring it yourself." The twins exchanged a look between them. _So much for Gryffindors' self-righteous dogooderism._

"That would attract two Gryffindors' agreement, woudln't it?" _Oh, yes, he was going to make them beg. Not that the Weasley twins minded losing all dignity._

"Surely a Slytherin such as yourself had more in mind than just that?"

"As a matter of fact, I did. I noticed this weekend that you seemed rather enamored of one of my offhand comments." The twins looked on, steadily. _They did know quiet, and kept it, when it was necessary. Sadly, it was their gift to know when it wasn't necessary, not particularly when it was._

"I may have a few improvements and suggestions to add to your evergrowing list of "Things Students, and Especially Weasleys, Should _Never_ Do Again." " Snape smirked, "Of course, you'd have to actually do them in order to get them added to that list."

"We have a list?"

"Yes." Snape said, looking faintly puzzled, "I thought you knew? Filch keeps it."

"We'll have to investigate!" The twins looked half as if they'd rather just run over there now. Luckily, they had more presence of mind than that.

"Bargain accepted. We'll hold to our end, you'll hold to yours."

"Or the stick'll break in the middle, and fireworks will pour out!"

"One more thing, before we go..."

"What's the potion?"

"Wolfsbane. And you aren't leaving your detention until you know it nearly blindfolded and deaf." Snape fondly entertained a quick fantasy of being deaf in his own classroom, unable to hear the pesky Ravenclaws asking derailing questions.

Together, they got to work.

[a/n: another story the twins are in. I officially hate writing them, and they show up everywhere!

If you have any suggestions as to how I can write the twins better, please, please review!

I like reviews, please leave more.]


	17. You remember Hagrid

Draco Malfoy swung his head around, careful to keep the horse going in the correct (at least he hoped) direction. The black dog loped alongside them, as the horses trotted over the moor. "When I was just a kid - I think the happiest I ever was - I had just gotten a broom. Flying - and it wasn't a great broom, but being up in the air. I must have been eight - it was my birthday. I had been asking for that broom for months."

Harry Potter looked at Malfoy, and responded, "Did your dad ever fly with you?"

"Occasionally. Just drills, though. How to avoid a spell, how to keep your balance while deflecting, things like that. It was never any fun."

"And your mum?"

"I've never seen her on a broom. I think she'd say it's undignified, or something like that." Harry snorted at that, finding it imminently plausible. Draco smiled fondly, and said, "Found a picture of her, once, flying on a broom at Hogwarts. She looked... carefree. Like she had put the entire world on hold for a moment."

Harry Potter found himself thinking about Dudley's bicycle, which Dudley had ridden just long enough to learn how to ride, and then never picked up again. Harry had wanted to pick it up and at least learn how to not fall over, but he had had the good sense not to do that.

"You remember Hagrid, right? That _big oaf of a halfbreed_?" Harry Potter said, the words Draco Malfoy had said still hurting years later.

"He's kind of too large to forget, Potter." Draco Malfoy said, his natural defensiveness coming out in prickly, quippy responses.

"Well, I had been going down to talk with him a lot - he knew my parents, and would tell me stories. Even got me some pictures." Harry's voice was infused with a level of warmth that Draco Malfoy found odd, almost... disquieting.

"I started bringing Hermione and Ron, and - this one time, we found him trying to hatch a dragon's egg."

"Oh, right, the dragon. Who thought that would be a good idea to have in bloody England?"

"You know, I don't think we ever did find out who brought it here. Hagrid said he won it in a card game."

"Someone wagered an illegal dragon's egg, at a card game?" Draco Malfoy's eyebrows were raised to the point that they were nearly off their head. "Do you have any idea how _grievin'_ stupid that sounds?"

"It's Hagrid, at the Hog's Head - do you think Hagrid even _knows_ how to lie?" Harry said, his flat tone changing suddenly into one that's far more contemplative.

"Stinks, that does. Smells like a trap, or a ruse, or something." Draco Malfoy frowned. "Bothersome, that." He said, still thinking about the whole thing. "Wasn't my father, either. I'd have heard about it, elsewise." Shaking his head again, still frowning, Draco said, "I just can't think of who would have it out for the Keeper of the Keys of Hogwarts..."

"Maybe that's it?" Harry Potter ventured...

"What's it, Potter?"

"Someone wanted a clear way into Hogwarts. Maybe they thought that it would be easier with Hagrid busy..."

"... or dismissed." Draco said, his expression clearing up, turning stony.

"Well, you remember what happened at the end of the story."

"I still cannot believe anyone would think that a dragon belonged at a school for children."

"Well, it is Hagrid."

[a/n: boys will be boys. Plothole in original novel, not my fault. Write review, I love you too.]


	18. Slytherin House Meeting

Potion Master Severus Snape left the classroom in a far better state of mind than you'd imagine, given that his job in the very near future was to be finding two missing Third Year students, neither of which he was certain could keep themselves from dying - to a stray auto, or to a vampire, or to whatever could possibly be _draining their life_.

The cause of this good mood should be obvious, however. Professor Snape, for all that he was generally an irascible git, quite liked Potions, if not people (particularly Gryffindors). As he had just brewed a very fine batch of Wolfsbane, and had succeeded in teaching the Twins enough that the whole school would not be filled to the brim with werewolves when he returned, Severus Snape was a remarkably happy (which is to say content, as few would ever mistake the man for brimming with joy).

With long, groundeating strides, Severus Snape strode from the Potions classroom towards Slytherin House, his feet taking the well memorized path to the Common Room. He strode in, and gave the children a moment to each catch the next's eye, and for silence to fall like a pall on the room at large.

"As you may by now be aware," _He was fairly certain no one had noticed, but one underestimated House Slytherin at one's own peril._ "Draco Malfoy has taken a leave of absence. Given the circumstances involved, it would be most unwise to allow this information to leave Slytherin House." Professor Snape paused, pacing three strides, and then whirling. It was a precise and practiced maneuver. "No doubt the other houses will learn of it in their own due time, although I've always said that Slytherin House is the most observant for a reason." Professor Snape paused, and his black eyes raked the crowd, hitting each person in turn, looking for one that might break. He nodded grimly at the end of his perusal, "In return for your silence, Draco Malfoy will owe each of you a Class Teal, Order Two favor, with codicils 8 and 9 appended."

A murmur rose from the group. Slytherins were delightfully easy to bribe, Snape thought with satisfaction. The codicils would ensure that his students wouldn't try to spend the favor on homework, of all things, and the higher order terms were simply to keep the favors reasonable. Still, thought Snape with some satisfaction, Draco Malfoy would be paying quite a steep fine for daring to leave school unattended.

"You may be wondering how Draco Malfoy could possibly find enough time in a year to grant all of you those favors. If I might offer a suggestion, you might pool your resources." Everyone looked as though they hadn't considered that before. Foolish, that, Snape thought with an inward smirk. "Girls, you might take some pleasure in having young Mister Malfoy host a dance." Snape said, pausing, and choosing, _for the moment_ , to forego the clincher - that the boys might take more pleasure in changing Mister Malfoy's attire into a dress for the occasion. He'd offer it up if they hadn't devised it themselves before he returned. Abject humiliation was a good tutor.

Mutterings were heard around the room, as discussions on which dress to wear, and 'wasn't that the greatest idea?' and 'what would you do with a seeker who owes you a favor?' Snape sincerely hoped that the last one wasn't Parkinson making a lewd comment. The last thing Draco Malfoy's ego needed was him losing his virginity. Snape paused, considering. Assuming that hasn't happened already.

Snape cleared his throat, calling the room to silence, "I have personal matters that I must attend to, outside of Hogwarts. In the interim, you may address house concerns to Professor Silvestra." Silvestra was his assistant in Slytherin matters anyway - the product of some discrete bribery - she had quite the taste for liquor, and was most thankful to get Snape's Special hangover potion, at a moment's notice and with no sarcasm until after drinking. In return, she was generally the one he pointed his Slytherins toward when they needed a gentler touch. Severus Snape was not a particularly comforting man by nature, and didn't care to have the reputation that giving hugs would naturally bring.

Children all around the room exchanged glances, before Marcus Flint raised his hand, and asked stupidly, "You're leaving us in the care of Hugs and Kisses?" Snape carefully suppressed the need to grin. He'd get a lot of mileage out of slipping that nickname into the next Staff Meeting. Silvestra would throw a royal fit.

"You'll find she's quite capable of handling your problems. And, I daresay, you'll find her significantly more strict when she's not standing in my shadow." Snape meant that literally, of course, for he was a tall man, and Silvestra was, well, not.

"I told you they were playing good cop bad cop!" A Slytherin half-blood said from the back of the room, to the confusion of every other student there.

"Dismissed" Snape said, as he turned and left, he was amused by the questions being tossed at the half-blood, who had had a decent point. He'd have to check in the morning, but he felt like that meeting had gone well. He doubted that any of the children would put together that Snape was going to hunt all over tarnation to find Draco Malfoy. And he very much doubted that any Slytherin would ruin the favors Draco would owe to his entire house by squealing to their parents. Or to Lucius Malfoy. Which, all in all, was a _very good thing_.

[a/n: Slytherins trade in favors _all the time_. As such, they've got a decently complex system of classification.

Leave a review - up next, Draco and Harry are at it again. Almost through day Two.]


	19. Disassembling the Library

Draco got a quick smile on his face, wiped away in a second - though Harry could still see his eyes smiling. "Oh, I've got to tell you about the time I disassembled the family library!"

Harry got this funny look on his face, slightly widened eyes, and a grin that said, _you didn't!_ "You what?" he prompted.

"I was all of seven at the time! I really don't know what I was thinking, other than I was alone and it seemed like fun. I started by pulling down all the books. At seven, that took more than eight hours - all the running up and down the ladders."

"You pulled all the books out?"

"Yeah, there were thousands. It's not as big as Hogwarts, but it's still... impressive."

"I bet Hermione would drool over it." Harry said thoughtlessly, his grin fading as Draco directed a sharp glare at him.

" _She'd_ be better off never seeing it." Harry looked sharply at Draco at that comment, thinking and then rethinking whether he really wanted to ask that question. Lucius Malfoy was a well-known pureblood supremacist, after all.

"Anyway, when I was done with that, I started in on the shelves, pulling down each and every one - and then disassembling them into the boards."

"Wow, no one said anything?"

"I think the houseelves were busy, and my parents... weren't around. The latest incarnation of Governess had sadly been let go." Draco put on a moue.

"What did you do to make that happen?"

"More like what didn't I do! Governesses were constantly leaving, saying that they couldn't stand my arrogance, my conceit, my impudence." Draco smirked.

"What did you do to leave that impression?" Harry asked, leaning close even though on a horse that sent him sidling in the opposite direction.*

"I was my charming self." Draco smirked, and then sneered, "It's not my fault if they didn't receive proper training."

"I'm not surprised." Harry said with a cheerful grin.

"I'd refuse to recite any lessons to her, and then when she'd complain, my father would test me and I'd answer perfectly. I think it was actually the smirks that sent that one off though."

"That was enough?"

"Well, it was clear that I wasn't going to help her, and she didn't know how to competently evaluate my learning without me answering questions. Not terribly creative, I must admit."

"Oh."

"Harry, you're distracting me."

"Sorry."

"It must have been midnight by the time my parents found me. I had been working since eight in the morning - so busy I forgot to eat, and the house elves too busy with cleanup to realize that one of them was supposed to have reminded me!"

"Wow, I'm surprised you weren't asleep!"

"I very nearly was... bent over a book well above my age level. When they walked in, I simply looked up and asked, "What's a grindylow?" "

Harry guffawed at the idea, and Malfoy continued, "Oh, they were so upset. But the upside of it was, I got a new wand!"

Harry paled, thinking of what Uncle Vernon or, worse, Aunt Petunia would do if they had found him acting so carelessly with their stuff. "They... they didn't punish you?"

"Oh, that was _part_ of the punishment!" Malfoy cackled, "A full month where I couldn't leave my room except to go to the bathroom - at least that was my parents idea." He quieted down, and said with a sneer, "Fails to show sufficient remorse." His expression cleared, and he said with a smirk, "That's what my godfather said, and, to be fair, he's always liked books more than my parents. He was the one that made certain I got a wand. One that I was forced to stare at - without even books for company - for a solid month." Draco frowned, "It was discipline, pure and simple, sitting there and thinking of everything that I could do with a wand, and yet not even allowed to touch it." Draco said with a thin smile. "They had Dobby watching me, you know? I couldn't even twitch towards the wand without him coughing."

"I know the feeling." Harry said, and if Draco thought he said it a bit too fervently, he didn't comment - directly, "What, the Boy Who Lived got punished?"

"Yeah." Harry said shortly, "A lot" he said, and he kicked his horse forward into a trot. Draco spent a few seconds looking after him, wondering how that managed to strike such a nerve. Probably had something to do with his unwillingness to discuss how he had lived as a child. Some of what he was discussing from Hogwarts would be enough to drive an interested adult completely gray.

*horses move away from weight.


	20. Turning Point

As the day grew darker, they pulled their horses to a halt and started to set up camp. When at least the tent was set, they sat down and started to make a fire, as Harry belated began to speak.

"My turn now." Harry said, at once with relish and a need to deflect. "You remember I had told you about Snape trying to get the Stone?"

Draco nodded mutely, his near-automatic protests quelled by the sudden seriousness of Harry Potter's mien and bearing.

"Well, you were there when we found the unicorn's blood." Harry said without his usual ebullient expression. "Terrible thing to do - that, curse yourself for a bit more time to live. Who else would do that other than Voldemort?" Harry asked rhetorically.

Draco Malfoy looked uncharacteristically blue - his pallor whitening past his normal paleness, "But - he's dead! He's...!" Looking at him with somber eyes, Harry shook his head slowly in the negative. Draco suddenly felt the need to do something. Anything. He had thought - Potter was surely joking when he'd said - Potter had really thought that Draco Malfoy might be out to kill him! And, blithering idiot that he was, Potter had asked him if that was his plan. Draco mutely noticed that his hands were shaking.

Harry paused for a moment, seeming to school his expression to seriousness. "So, we figured it was Voldemort, in league with Snape, trying to get the Philosopher's Stone to get eternal life."

Draco mutely thought that it made a good deal of sense, that theory - if you were of the opinion that the Dark Lord wasn't truly dead. Otherwise... who _had_ gone after the unicorn? That was a fool's bargain if Draco had ever heard one.

"After the exams, we heard that Dumbledore was leaving Hogwarts for a meeting - and, of course, that sounded like the best time to go after the Stone." Harry shook his head at Draco, resembling a black labrador shaking his fur. "So, naturally, we had to get it before Voldemort did. Because he knew where it was - we figured Snape had told him- and would be coming for it presently."

"You... decided to get it out of wherever Dumbledore had put it for safekeeping?" Draco asked, his jaw fighting to drop - Draco stopped it with an act of will.

"Yeah. It seemed like the thing to do at the time. Beside, McGonagall wouldn't listen to us at all!"

"What did you say to her?"

"McGonagall! We think that Snape's going to try to steal the Stone - to give to Voldemort, probably." Harry repeated, his voice uncannily mimicking three scared firsties.

"Oi, I'm not surprised that didn't work. You're lucky you didn't get into trouble for even knowing about it." Draco said wisely.

"It wasn't all that difficult to get down to the Stone, really." Harry potter said, his brow starting to furrow. "There were lots of things - but they were all easy to get past. Hagrid's pipe and some music got us past Fluffy." Draco shook his head again at the impossibly plausible name for the Cerberous. "Hermione knew how to get us out of the Devil's Snare - after it had taken us down past Fluffy. I could fly to catch the correct key to open the right door - just like a snitch. And Ron, ron knew how to play chess."

Draco's mouth had unconsciously tightened, as he thought about everything there. It seemed like a strange and perfect madness - the absolute calling card of one Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts.

"The last puzzle was Snape's of course - logic, of all things. And it would only let one of us through. I had to go - Ron was already hurt, and Hermione needed to be there to explain, in case of trouble."

"Because she's very good at looking right even when she's not?" Draco asked wryly, for once more distracted by the story than by Granger's name and his unholy hatred for the bossy wench.

"Yeah. Anyway, I went through the final door... and there was Professor Quirrel."

"Professor Quirrel?" Draco Malfoy asked, his grey eyes flashing with unnamed emotion.

"Yeah, which understandably surprised me, as I'd been expecting Professor Snape." Harry paused, taking a quick,deep breath. "And the mirror was there, too."

"The Mirror of Erised?" Draco asked.

"Yeah, that. Apparently Quirrel didn't see what he wanted to in it, because he asked what I saw." Harry Potter said, his face once again full of that green-eyed grin that Draco Malfoy had so often longed to punch ( _he_ wasn't happy, why should Potter get to be so happy?).

"I lied, of course, telling him about the Quiddich Cup - that'd always been what Ron saw, anyways."

Draco rolled his eyes, and said without heat, "Typical."

"I heard a breathless voice, coming from behind Quirrel - though there was no one there." Harry said, pausing for a moment. "It said I was lying - which I was, but that didn't stop my heart from being in my throat at the time."

"Hadn't thought they might be invisible?" Draco mused.

"I grew up Muggle! I didn't think that! Probably should've though..." Harry mused tightly.

"The voice asked Quirrel to take off his turban..." Harry said, looking somber and serious again.

"When Quirrel turned around - there was a second face attached to his head. Voldemort."

Draco's eyes were wide as platters, and he muttered furiously at Harry, "He's not dead, how can he not be dead - what is going on?"

Draco's eyes flicked left, winding up staring hard at the now-lit fire. "That bleedin' bastard. He's known. He's always known!"

Harry Potter wore a look of utter incomprehension, "Who? What?" If Draco Malfoy hadn't wanted to talk, he hadn't needed to start. But if he thought he was just going to utter lines like that, and not get questioned on them...

"My godfather." Draco Malfoy looked down at his lap, before bringing eyes that seemed to have a glint of madness in them to bear on Harry Potter's uncomprehending face.

"Every year at Yule, at the turning from one year to the next, he'd raise a toast, 'To old times!' he'd say." Draco said, his voice almost numb with the force of remembering.

"And my father would respond, 'Best buried and forgotten.' " Draco spat, his face turning furiously red - as red as Harry's, when his friends had been insulted. A look Harry had never thought to see on Draco Malfoy's face.

"And then he'd smirk - every single time. Like he knew something that we didn't. That my father didn't." Draco Malfoy's face had gone blue-white.

Harry, on the other hand, was mentally reviewing what Draco had just said - and more importantly, how he had said it. Because something rang in his head -

Harry suddenly sat up. "Your godfather's Snape!" Harry's eyes were wide, and his voice robbed of any emotion other than that of discovery.

Absentmindedy, Draco responded quietly, "Yeah, I thought you knew. I told _everyone_ my first week at Hogwarts."

"We weren't talking at the time, remember?" Harry snapped back, his focus briefly diverted. Seconds later, he was booting a rock into the fire. "I am such an idiot! I should have figured that out! It should have been obvious." The black dog had slunk near, and was pushing his head under his hand, the big, still lean enough to be worrisome body pushing him away from the fire. "Of course it'd been Snape, of all people, who had a grudge against my father. Snape!" Harry Potter turned, only half because the dog was pushing him to - and stared, his rage at himself draining down into his boots, spilling out of him like a shadow.

Because there was Draco Malfoy, white-blue and shaking. The look in his eyes was both baffled and hopeless. "He knew." Draco said, his voice unwavering, "He bloody well _knew_."

"Draco, what's wrong?" Harry Potter asked, sitting beside him and not looking in his eyes. Before them, the black dog lay down in front of the fire, giving a tired whuffle at the warmth on its paws.

Draco continued to stare into the fire, "By all rights, I should go back. My father needs to be told. It's my duty. It's my responsibility." Draco Malfoy turned those hopeless eyes on Harry Potter, and said, "but I _can't_. I can't do it. I can't go back, not even for this."

Harry Potter was left with the very disquieting idea that whatever was going on with Draco Malfoy was a bit bigger than either of them were capable of dealing with. Like a secret that would explode with the telling, rather than unravel peacefully. And, paradoxically, this made Harry Potter quite a bit more likely to help Draco with his madcap plan to hide in the Muggle world. Because if they couldn't deal with it... who would?

"I hurt Voldemort that day, burnt him badly. Quirrel died when I put my hands on him - but Dumbledore said that Voldemort won't die so easily." Harry Potter said. Draco Malfoy made no reply, just staring blankly into the fire. Perhaps realizing that Draco wasn't paying attention, yet compelled to go on, Harry Potter said brokenly, "It was my mum. Her sacrifice made it so... he couldn't stand the touch of me." The big black dog raised his head, turning it towards his two shaky charges, emotions swirling through his nose, as he slowly wagged his tail - a reassurance for two lost boys alone on the gusty moor.

[a/n: Well! Here's to the Second Day of Freedom! Or whatever you want to call Harry and Draco being outside Hogwarts. This chapter was one of the main reasons Harry and Draco are exchanging stories.

Write a review if you want more of this story...]


	21. Snape O Clock

Severus Snape rose early in the morning, looking again at the map as he cast the spell that showed two of his charges rather conspicuously missing from Hogwarts. Well, at least it was Minerva's job to make excuses for Potter. Snape would simply have told the world to go hang if he had to invent lies to explain why _Harry Potter was Missing from Hogwarts_.

His bags were mostly packed, though he tripled the number of healing potions (including truth serum, one never knew when it would be essential to know exactly _which_ poison had been used), and carefully put in a few of the Weasley's confiscated potions. Far be it for a Potions Master to say it aloud, but they were inventive. And a useful potion was worth carrying, regardless of the source.

He checked over his bags one last time, a habit that he'd never been quite able to break. One didn't always have the chance to go back again, so he figured he'd best have what he needed.

Severus Snape stopped, and carefully pulled out an old stone from the wall, pulling out a small stash of muggle currency. He was fully capable of acquiring most of his needs through deft manipulation or outright thievery. Occasionally, it was quicker and easier to actually pay for things.

At quarter till 8 it was time to visit the Great Hall. Severus Snape strolled in, his lengthy stride for once checked as he glided across the floor near the Slytherin table. His ears were pricked, and he delighted to hear the rumors about his absence. Everything from needing to visit a vampiric childe, to having a long lost cousin in need of some navigational assistance, to needing the reassurance of a werewolf pack. One child was even insisting that he was returning to a Faerietop, of all things! As if his dark hair looked at all like the _Fair Folk_ , long rumored to be blond and blue eyed.

As he sat to pretend to eat, Septima's owl winged over to him. On it was a letter, that read, " _Agreed, but you'll give me the last month off this year. I want to work on some research for predicting students' marks._ " Inwardly, Severus Snape cursed - he didn't have time to dicker over this. And Septima well knew how much he hated the last month of the semester. Every girl and half the boys seemed to think that a spell of tears might actually get him to change their grades - sometimes even for Transfiguration! It was ridiculous,and Septima was far more skilled at handling the actually upset than Severus ever was.

Still, a bargain was a bargain, even if hard struck. And Severus Snape needed to get a move on. As he stood, he saw an angry McGonagall striding into the room. _Ah, she's figured out that I've already had words with the Weasley twins. Best make a quick exit._ He was gone before McGonagall was halfway up the entirely empty Gryffindor table.

[a/n: Gryffindors sleep in. Write a review?]


	22. Dobby the House Elf

p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;"Harry and Draco woke that day nearly in each other's arms. It was cold, and they had rolled together (even under their blankets) to be warm. The great black dog (who seemed to be looking less threadbare, at least...) was laying on their shins and feet. The boys woke nearly at the same time, - green eyes meeting gray, and they scrambled to their feet./p  
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;"Neither said a thing, simply looked at each other. Then Draco Malfoy ostentatiously stretched (reminding Harry more of a cat than anything...), and Harry simply shrugged and started hauling out the tack for the horses. Draco started a fire, and the crackle of it helped warm the bread. Harry'd have shaken his head at the frivolity of the move, but he was too busy thinking... Something about yesterday - about Draco, yesterday - had seemed to resonate within Harry himself. There... seemed to be a grimness to Draco that Harry was dead certain he hadn't had when Harry first met him./p  
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;"In under a half hour, they were both dressed and astride, the early mists making it hard to see even where they were going. Draco Malfoy spoke first, saying, "I remember Dobby putting on puppet plays for me, as a kid."/p  
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;""What kind of plays?" Harry asked interestedly, trying to hide the wince at the expected (but luckily unmaterialized) appearance of Dobby./p  
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;""Oh, all sorts. Lots of slapstick. I really liked seeing Jacq try to poke Franz's eyes out. Oh, and the farting!" Draco muffled a chuckle - but, with that last word, Harry Potter let out a loud guffaw./p  
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;""Your parents - they let a house elf put on plays - about people farting?!"/p  
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;""Yes, a great hit at dinner parties." Draco Malfoy drawled - and then smirked, and possibly for the first time ever, Harry thought he was in on the joke. Because it was simply absurd to think of Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy putting on plays with farting peasants in them!/p  
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;""You're - you've got to be - " Harry collapsed in mirth, the horse under him sidling away./p  
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;""No, I assure you, it's true." Draco Malfoy said./p  
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;""Well, it's good you brought up your house elf, because before second year, he kept on trying to send me increasingly panicked messages."/p  
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;""He-he did?" Draco said, eyes wide - house elves nearly never did something for people outside their family. "Dobby?"/p  
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;"Harry nodded, saying firmly, "You understand why I can't say his name."/p  
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;"Draco's eyes widened, "oh, so that's why- You're his new-!" Draco blinked awkwardly, "How'd that work with Granger, anyhow?"/p  
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;""She, erm, hasn't figured it out yet. And I don't think he's exactly normal, for a house elf."/p  
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;""For anything, really" Draco said, and Harry nodded./p  
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;""So, in the middle of my Muggle bedroom, here is this creature that I've never seen before in my life!" Harry says with a great big smile. "He introduces himself, and I introduce myself back - because that's what you do." Draco gave a hesitant nod in response, "And the elf breaks out in tears, and starts gushing about exactly how great I am - " Harry breaks off, and eyes Draco suspiciously, "You didn't have any of those HarryPotter books, did you?"/p  
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;"Draco wryly shook his head, "If I'd even found one, my father'd burn it, you know that. Not the right leanings for that sort of thing."/p  
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;"Harry stilled his mirth and simply nodded. "Anyway, he was going on and on about the danger at Hogwarts-"/p  
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;"Draco interrupted, "Wait - how would he-" And then Harry was treated to the sight of seeing Draco's eyes go wide. "Oh. Nevermind" Draco said, trying for haughty and mostly failing./p  
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;""He'd been hiding my mail too, and when I told him I still would go to Hogwarts, well, that's when things took a turn for the worse. " Harry said. Draco merely cocked his head, listening intently. "He upended a desert on the dinner party my relatives were having downstairs (which did NOT put my relatives in a good mood, as they had no explanation for such ... magical skullduggery, and I think Uncle Vernon lost the account...)."/p  
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;"Draco Malfoy had keen ears, and he could hear an undercurrent of what wasn't being said, and it sounded dark and dangerously quiet to him./p  
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;""And then the letter arrived - by owl post - citing me for misuse of magic." Harry Potter said./p  
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;"Draco shook his head understandingly, "When it wasn't even you..."/p  
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;""So, my relatives, piss and vinegar both, start hollering at me. Man, you thought a howler was awful! Nothing compared to my relatives, I can tell you that!." Harry Potter lied lightly. They were wellpracticed lies, so Harry didn't stammer or stutter, they just flowed out. Powered by the everpresent understanding that emno one really cares/em./p  
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;"Draco knew, deep inside himself, that the lightness was a ruse - and from the looks of it an abnormally well practiced one. "Blimey, that must have been loud! Those Muggles are awful!" He said, all the while looking at Harry, trying to figure out exactly... well, how bad it was. Because he was behaving like I'vE Got A SeKret, and that was loud and annoying both./p  
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;""Pretty sure it's just my relatives, but-" Harry Potter said, breaking off, "I didn't realize, before, well, Hogwarts, that it could be different. Not for me, at any rate."/p  
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;"[a/n: Dobby will only appear if Harry calls him. Leave a review. Sorry about the weird capitalization, that's Draco's fault.]/p 


	23. Snape's Regret

Oh, How Severus Snape Hated the Woods. He was of a firm mind that Hagrid and the beasts out here deserved each other.

It wasn't that he didn't know finding spells, or that he was anything but certain of finding the two miscreants.

But, Severus Snape hated stepping in small puddles of water, of feeling his feet sink slightly into the soil.

He hated the sounds, the neverending sounds of the forest.

It was as if the universe itself was conspiring against him to set his nerves on edge.

You couldn't bellow at the forest for silence, not if you disliked looking like a fool, after all.

And Severus Snape refused to sit on a broom and miss any clues that he might find.

Of course, that had been hours ago, and he'd failed to get so much as a footprint.

He was reluctantly ready to conclude that perhaps Dumbledore had had a point.

Not that Snape was going to admit it.

There! Snape paused, finding... was that a horseshoe? Who could...

Oh.

That was why he hadn't found any bootprints.

Severus Snape abruptly looked around himself, piercing eyes and cutting tongue at the ready.

There was no one there, of course, but Snape hated looking the fool, even in private. In public was far worse.

In a far better mood, Snape continued on. Horses meant a relatively fast pace... Snape's lips pursed. I hope there were only two horses. This whole thing could get a lot worse than two runaways.

[a/n: Snape, everyone. More suited to be a spy than a ranger. Leave a review.]


	24. House Elves and Things Like That

They were mounted on their horses, and the journey seemed like it was going to last an entire nother day, Harry Potter thought, not entirely gloomily. He stil hadn't... quite decided what he was doing. And, of course, even if he had decided, there would be the slight matter of how to go about it. Helping Draco with his madcap plan would take some thought and consideration - if it was even possible. Of course, he was talking about a Slytherin who had managed to get Harry Potter out of Hogwarts, and - almost unbelievably - without any signs of pursuit. Had they really managed to lose Hagrid? Fang? All the teachers combined?

Harry shook his head, thinking again - what if he decided to turn Draco Malfoy in? What exactly did he expect to happen? Would his father blame Harry for having kidnapped his son? Oi, that would be an untidy mess. And, of course, there was always the question of exactly where they would reenter the Wizarding World. Somehow, simply appearing at Hogwarts front gates seemed lackluster, and boring.

Draco finally opened up his mouth again, saying, "My mother's never cooked a dish in her life, but I have!"

"Really?" Harry found himself saying, finding it hard to believe that Draco had ever been asked to cook for his folks.

"Yeah, I took over the kitchen - gave the house elves orders and everything." Draco said, pausing.

"So, you didn't actually cook anything yourself?" Harry said dryly.

"Oh, I did - just not the first time. It turns out that if you ask, house elves know a lot about quite a good number of things." Draco smiled, almost fondly, "I at one point entertained the notion of becoming an apprentice chef." Draco's face stilled, got quiet, even, as he said, "My father disabused me of that notion almost immediately, of course."

"Okay, then you're cooking dinner tonight!" Harry said, kicking his heels into his horse's sides, spurring her to speeds that they had previously eschewed. At the moment, Harry couldn't imagine why they'd done it. It felt almost like being on a broom, feeling the wind fly past your face.

[a/n: I changed a few lines two chapters back. Now I need to change the formatting. Work In Progress, carry on.]


	25. Flying Auto

Inwardly, Harry grimaced, half-hating having to tell Draco Malfoy about being rescued from the Dursleys. And yet, Draco was being remarkably open himself - and if Harry just closed his eyes, he could picture it, almost as if he had a family. a real family, anyhow, the Dursleys didn't count.

"I wasn't allowed to even send a letter to my friends," Harry Potter began, "So, George and Fred got an idea."

"Oh, I've heard all about the sorts of ideas those two get up to." Draco Malfoy said.

Harry did a doubletake. Was that actual appreciation in Draco Malfoy's voice?

Draco belatedly noticed Harry's eyes bulging out of his face, and he laughed at the improbable sight. "They're a crafty couple, make no mistake."

"But- you - !" Harry said, nearly incoherently.

Luckily, Draco seemed willing to translate, "Hating someone, feuding with them's one thing, Potter. But any craftsman can appreciate a well made piece, and those two make intricate schemes." Draco slowly smiled, and then drawled, "Would you believe that two of them are up on the Slytherin Common Room's wall? Complete with notations and questions."

"Really?" Harry Potter asked, eyes wide.

"They'll stay up there until the seventh years finish figuring out the spells, and the fifths finish figuring out the rest of it all." Draco Malfoy said with a grin. "Last year, I helped by suggesting they had used a house elf to smuggle the potion that turned Snape's hair green!" Harry just looked at him, expression entirely confounded. Draco continued, as if he hadn't noticed Potter's response, "I was wrong, of course, but in Slytherin house, it's the thought that counts."

Harry Potter couldn't help himself, he let out a loud guffaw that startled both horses into trotting forward a bit. "That's not what the saying means..." He finally wheezed out.

Harry Potter picked his story back up, by saying, "I think the twins were really just worried about me. No letters and all that." Draco nodded politely. "They swooped down in a flying automobile, and plucked me right out of the second story bedroom window!"

"What did your relations think of something like that?"

"Well, they weren't exactly pleased - it had made something of a ruckus, and they're never fond of loudness and attention-attracting." Harry said the last with airquotes, before continuing, "But I bet they were glad to see my backside, and no mistake!" Harry laughed, and Draco found himself wondering what sort of person would find that quite so belly-achingly funny. Draco certainly wouldn't, if his parents would rather he not be there.

Draco's mouth opened almost of its own free will, "Wait, what's an automobile? I take it they don't generally fly...?"

[a/n: And scene! Up next, I'm going to come up with something for Snape to do. Suggestions welcome, reviews always appreciated.]


	26. Automobile

Harry Potter bit his lip, unknowingly reminiscent of Granger - Draco harshly curbed the sneer that wanted to come to the fore. That would be unproductive - no, counterproductive. "Ah!" Potter said, his green eyes reminding Draco of some sort of idiot who had just caught sight of a bauble by the side of the road. "An automobile is a horseless carriage, a great big metal object that rolls without horses, and people ride in it."

Draco Malfoy found himself eyeing Harry Potter askance, confused and vaguely wondering if Potter was simply pulling his leg. "You-" Draco said, trailing off, "You - aren't making that up..." Draco didn't realize it, but his eyes had gotten wide. "You can't be making that up! Fabulous - it sounds like something out of a dream... or a nightmare."

Harry Potter smiled unrepentantly, saying, "As if flying on a broomstick wasn't strange. You realize Madame Hooch's class was the first time I sat a broom?"

Draco's shoulders shook with laughter as he drawled, "You really are a natural..." He then drew himself up into the very picture of the poppinjay that Harry had first thought Draco to be, way back in first year. "I'm so terribly jealous."

Harry blinked, seeing the shadow of a very real truth in that statement, and then choosing to completely ignore it.

Draco Malfoy asked, suddenly, "Did you ever have pets? A dog? A cat?"

Harry Potter laughed, saying, "of course not! Although I did get to stay with the cat lady sometimes. She'd give me biscuits!" Harry Potter said, and his eyes sparkled with a simple, childlike delight that bespoke of the wonders of tasty biscuits.

"I bet they weren't pumpkin flavored!" Draco Malfoy said with his usual cock-eyed smirk.

"Nope!" Harry responded with a grin, chuckling at the weak joke. "Vanilla, or chocolate, sometimes lemon."

"My father trained hounds." Draco Malfoy started, his voice both prideful and firm. "Still does, I suppose, though he's been busy enough lately that I wouldn't doubt his training has suffered."

"My aunt had a dog," Harry started to say, almost tentatively, "She called him Ripper... I still remember his teeth, long and flashing white."

From behind both of them, the black dog gave an almost pathetic whine. They both looked back at him, and Draco (who was more proficient on horseback), dropped back, and leaned over his saddle to give the dog a gentle pat on the back, even though his spine was clearly visible through his pelt. "It's okay, we know you... good dog."

Harry had meanwhile wrestled his horse into slowing down a bit (the horse had simply bent her head, and was lipping gently at some grass), and he said to the dog, as if he could understand, "You'd keep Ripper off my back, wouldn't you?"

The dog wagged its tail slowly, almost painfully, but seemed to assent, his pink tongue sticking out as his ears stayed perked on Harry's words.

"They didn't-" Draco Malfoy cut off, his throat suddenly dry. "They didn't hunt you, did they?" Draco Malfoy seemed more ill at ease than Harry had ever seen him, "I've read stories, I've heard tales, but those were just ages ago... Muggles hunting Wizards..." Draco looked at him, wide-eyed, and said in a soft whisper, "your own family?"

"No, no," Harry said, "I think they were making those stories up, to be honest. Wouldn't have done for young Wizards to think that Muggles were just mundane, now would it?" Harry said with a bit of a chuckle, and said, "Anyway, Aunt Marge only sicced Ripper on me when she wanted me out of the way. I was up the tree before he could even get over, and that was the way she liked it."

Draco Malfoy just stared at him, wide-eyed. "If my mother, if my sainted mother ever caught anyone doing that..." Draco shook his head, his ungreased, fine hair tumbling every which way, "I think she'd have them murdered within the fortnight."

"Good thing she never caught me, then, huh?" Harry said, kicking his horse out of chomping down, and hustling on. "Now you were saying something about your father's hounds?"

[a/n: No, Narcissa would not have killed Harry. There's a large element of Abuse of Power in Aunt Marge's conduct, and that's what would have prompted Narcissa's action.

Leave a review?

Harry, as usual, doesn't realize quite what he's saying. Draco, unlike a lot of people, can put two and two together and get four.]


	27. Gage

"My dad always had dogs around, growing up. They worked, hunting venison and other things like that," Draco began. "I had a puppy once, it was young and brown and kind of squirmy."

"What happened to it?" Harry Potter asked, hoping that this wasn't going to lead into Draco telling him that his father had killed it. Actually, really really hoping that wasn't the case, because if so, it said really sick things about Draco's obvious affection for his father.

"It got old enough to hunt, you know, as dogs do, and I started to train it." Draco said, softly. "I think I was a little overeager, though, and I sent it out on a hunt too early, and hunting a wildcat, to boot."

"Your dog was bigger than it, right?" Harry asked, kind of tentatively, trying to gauge the mood.

"yeah, but the cat wasn't fighting for it's supper, but for it's life." Draco said sadly. "Gage survived, but just barely. By the time I got to see him, he'd only one eye left, and his ear was shredded."

"I'm... I'm sorry." Harry said, haltingly. He tried to imagine Draco telling anything to his dog, but couldn't really do it. Maybe it was just a dog to him? Harry hoped, as he knew he wouldn't forgive himself doing something that bad to a friend.

"I played with him for a while longer," Draco said, "still feeling guilty, of course." He straightened, saying wistfully, "Then my father got me a broom, and I forgot all about Gage." He shook his head sadly, "It was months before I snuck out of bed to go see him again, and by then he was gone."

"Gone?" Harry really, really hoped no one had killed the dog, even if Draco had clearly forgotten about him.

"Yeah, when I asked, Father said he'd given the pup to the Goyles, but I never did see him again."

"I'm sorry," Harry said awkwardly.

"That's the thing of it, though - I've been to the Goyle's. And I was young enough that they'd let me run just about everywhere." Draco smiled a sad, watery smile, "I think ... they might have eaten him."

Harry stiffened, he didn't like dogs in general, not in the least, but ... that was just an awful fate. First to get hurt by a stupid boy's overconfidence, and then to be forgotten about, then sold, and then eaten? It was horrible.

"I hope they did," Draco continued quietly.

"Why? Why would you hope that?" Harry demanded, quietly but firmly.

"They don't have a lot to eat, there. Gage would just have been a burden." Draco Malfoy said quietly, "Father either meant it as an insult, or a stone around their necks." He shook his head quietly, "Haven't you noticed? Greg always eats more than his fair share, even at Hogwarts where kids can eat as much as they please."

Harry was silent, not sure what to say, and they rode on in the quiet. Apparently, Draco Malfoy was more considerate than he'd ever given the blond credit for.

[a/n: well, I really wasn't expecting this to turn so sad. Sorry! Leave a review!]


	28. Knockturn Alley

Harry Potter's horse's hooves went clip and then clop. Over and over again. Inside, however, Harry didn't even hear them. Didn't notice the dog racing beside them, occasionally cavorting up for a brush against one of them or the other. There was one question circling around his thoughts, and it felt like it was eating his mind, making it thrum with the question, a pulsating drumbeat of a tune.

Harry couldn't take it, he looked over at Draco and asked, point blank into the silence, "Why didn't they just give your dog away?"

Draco smirked, and then laughed, saying soberly into the cutting wind, "They're my father's dogs. Malfoy dogs - everyone would know them on sight. And, if Goyle was selling one, they'd assume he stole it. Besides, it'd be a bit of an insult to my father, to sell his gift..."

Harry Potter's face darkened, and he growled, "Your father's a git."

"Maybe so," Draco Malfoy said, "Not that I really realized it at the time." He sat three beats of the horses' walking pace, and then said suddenly, "You know, I could have asked for the pup back?"

Harry Potter looked over at Draco, his mouth dropping open.

"Yeah, I didn't think of it either." Draco Malfoy said wryly. "Just the type of idiot I am, really."

As the silence stretched into infinity again, Harry Potter couldn't help but think about exactly how true that was; and how odd it was to hear Draco Malfoy being modest. Hell, before this, Harry would have been surprised to see Malfoy manage accurate. Perhaps there was something truly to be said about him... being different out here.

"I was supposed to go to Diagon Alley with the Weasleys." Harry said, "But, being the general sort of idiot that I am," his eyes sparkled greenly with humor at mimicking Draco's comment, "I managed to get into Knockturn Alley instead."

Draco Malfoy shot Harry a look that said _only you_.

"Mumbledygibbish." Harry Potter said by way of explanation. "So, there I am, in a dark shop filled with all manner of Shadow Masks (not that I even knew what they were, and they still gave me nightmares). And, being the idiot that I generally am, a part of me wanted to explore, poke around and see what I can find." Harry smiled, the grimness fading briefly, "I'm not that much of an idiot, though. I found a nice nook and hid."

Draco smirked approval.

"You and your father walked in," Harry said, and Draco started - _he'd been there?_ . Oblivious, Potter continued, "I think I'd never been so glad to see you in my life."

"I heard you complaining about Hermione." Harry said, straight and to the point as usual.

"Obnoxious termagant bitch." Draco Malfoy said, his face flushing only slightly at the curse, as if he wasn't used to swearing. _That wasn't all that Potter heard..._

Harry Potter had to swallow a sudden question that wanted to pour out. That much anger - it wasn't natural. Or, at least, it wasn't pure competitiveness. Harry'd shared that with Draco, Quidditch rivals the year before. Draco'd been more than decent, a challenge even. But he had never, ever sounded like he did talking about Hermione.

"How'd you get out?" Draco asked suddenly.

"Hagrid found me" Harry said, even the name of the groundskeeper drawing a sincere smile from his face.

"Of course." Draco responded.

[a/n: Harry's telling his story. Not the Rowling story, his story. So what he's done is important, and things like Arthur and Lucius in a fistfight really aren't.

*Sigh* because I am a softie, there's a True Story of what happened to Gage. I'd better type faster, only Lucius knows it!]


	29. A hug

"I haven't told you about the time I stuck mud down Pansy's sundress, have I?" Draco Malfoy said, his grin like a fish's tail slapping the water, swift and silvery.

"No..." Harry drawled.

"Oh, it was hilarious. And her mum wouldn't believe that I did it!" Draco Malfoy said, starting to laugh. Harry was reminded of how cruel he had often found the other boy to be. Nice to see that he hadn't completely lost his sense of the other boy.

"What did she believe, then?" Harry asked, knowing a straight line when he saw one.

"That Pansy had ... shat herself!" Draco Malfoy chortled with glee, "All that mud dripping out the bottom of her dress."

"I bet Pansy was in tears when her Mum took her to get cleaned up." Harry said, concealing his sadness a little.

"Of course she was!" Draco Malfoy said, grinning, "But it's the after that's the real story. Her mum was over for a party, and the party ran so long that I managed to fall asleep..." Draco trailed off, before looking at Potter again, "And the first rule of revenge is strike while they're sleeping." Draco's face contorted itself into some semblance of somberness, as he said, "When I woke up..." letting his voice trail off in the most dramatic way possible, "My hair was burning!"

Harry Potter looked wide-eyed at Draco, who had broken out in gales of wild laughter - again. "Wasn't that-scary?"

"Oh, sure, for about a second or so - then a house elf dropped water on me, and it was all fine." Draco Malfoy said with a smile. "Except Mum didn't see it that way, and fussed over my burnt ends for ages."

Harry tried not to chuckle over the alternate meaning of burnt ends, but finally gave it up as futile and started to laugh. It felt strangely freeing - and to think, over such a horrible little story... Still, no one was truly harmed, so it wasn't all _that_ bad was it?

Harry spoke up a bit later, as they were heading towards the top of a rise, the foothills growing higher as they rode towards the edge of the moor. "Ron and I almost didn't make it to Hogwarts last year."

"What happened?" Draco asked chattily, "Was it Muggles? Figures that's what'd happen to the son of a -"

Harry cut Draco off, before the other boy said something they'd both regret, "No, it was your house elf. Decided to shut the portal, and leave us both stuck on the other side."

"With muggles?" Draco said eyeing him strangely, "Why?"

"He figured I'd be safer there." Harry said softly.

"With _Muggles_?" Draco repeated, his eyes wide and teeth shining.

"I did live with them for the first ten years of my life, you know." Harry Potter said reprovingly.

"I... I forget." Draco said, suddenly looking uneasy at how he had been sounding.

"We found Ron's father's automobile, and we rigged it to fly us to Hogwarts." Harry Potter said.

"What's an automobile?" Draco Malfoy asked curiously.

"A carriage that works without horses. It runs the muggle way, with electricity." Harry Potter said. "It also doesn't generally fly."

"How did this one, then?"

"Magical modifications by Mr. Weasley."

"You two got in trouble for that, didn't you?"

"Snape wanted us expelled, but..." Harry paused, and sighed, "Not really. Cost an arm and a leg, and got Mr. Weasley in trouble."

"Oi, I heard about that." Draco Malfoy said, "I just believed it was likelier that the Twins had managed a remote confundus than you'd have managed to fly across the entirety of Great Britain."

"Yeah, it makes you wonder where the Aurors were, doesn't it?" Harry said, and behind him, the dog wagged his tail.

[a/n: sorry this is so late. it's a bit longer to make up for it. ]


	30. We did get detention

"We did get detention," Harry said, seeming to perk up a bit at the thought of actually getting a little punished.

Draco Malfoy rolled his eyes, "Detention. Right. for breaking the Statute of Secrecy so badly that the entire Ministry was run ragged for days."

"Worse," Harry said, the traces of a smile starting to show on his face, "Mine was with Lockhart."

Draco Malfoy sneered, and left it at that.

"He made me answer his fan mail." Harry said, "Which wasn't so bad, really. Ron had to clean the trophy room - without magic, of course."

"Of course," Draco Malfoy said, making no secret of his enjoyment of Ron's worse predicament.

"Only..." Harry paused, looking a little uncertain, "I heard a voice, and I turned to look for who was speaking - and then I saw that Lockhart didn't hear it at all."

"Always knew you were a bit off your rocker, Potter." Draco Malfoy said with a smile. Then, he really looked at Potter - his uncertainty was nearly palpable. "What? I grew up part-Black, remember? There's always something new and magical around the corner." Draco Malfoy frowned, "Though I still think Lovegood makes up most of what she talks about."

"Crumpled horned snorkack! Behind you!" Harry called out, in alarm.

They both kicked their horses into an awkward canter, and Harry, laughing, eventually quieted enough to say, "Got you!"

Draco Malfoy leveled a decent glare at Potter, and left it at that.

[a/n: Whee! bonding experience!

Leave a review?]


	31. Deathday Party

After they had calmed the horses down, Draco Malfoy began to speak again. "I always liked looking up at the stars. They always seemed so cold, and peaceful."

"Woulda figured they'd look lonely," Harry said gently, not having seen any stars at all in his cupboard beneath the stairs.

"I was lonely too, I think - not that i realized it at the time." Draco Malfoy said, nudging his horse a bit to get it moving faster. "So it seemed pretty normal to me." Draco shook his head, "There aren't many purebloods that have close siblings, so... It just seemed normal, to be alone most of the time."

"You got the better half of the bargain, I think." Harry said with a gleamingly bitter smile.

"It was nearing the end of october," Harry began, "When I started to talk with Nearly Headless Nick, who was upset that he couldn't join the Headless Hunt."

"Whyever not?" Draco Malfoy asked, the demand laced through the question - though, Harry didn't mind. He'd said he'd tell, and so he did.

"He hadn't completely lost his head, you see."

"Oh, bother." Draco Malfoy said, in that slow drawl that signified some level of sympathy.

"Exactly. So I asked if there was anything I could do to help..."

"You would, Harry Potter, you would." Draco Malfoy growled, in a voice that sounded almost chagrined.

"He invited me to his 500th Deathday Party, said he wanted me to spread the word on how scary he was."

"So, he wanted you to lie?"

"Well, stitch the truth a bit bigger than life, really." Harry said, shifting uncomfortably as lying often did to him.

"And you agreed?"

"Well, I wanted to help out." Harry said, "Plus, who's ever heard of a Gryffindor turning down a party?"

"Well, describe it!" Draco Malfoy demanded, his face breaking out in an irrepressible grin.

"Tons of food, all rotting of course, and ghosts and ghosts everywhere! All the Hogwarts Host, and piles more besides. I've no idea how they all managed to fit together without merging!" Harry babbled excitedly. "It was all great fun until we met Moaning Myrtle again."

"Oh, she's a drip, isn't she?" Draco drawled.

"Yeah, so when we noticed she was going to go around the entire party after us, we said goodbye to Nick and the Head of the Headless Host, and were headed back to the Great Hall for dinner. Except..."

"What?" Draco Malfoy asked, his grey eyes disturbingly bright.

"The Chamber of Secrets has been Opened. Enemies of the Heir beware." Harry said, in a voice full of ashes. "We didn't... didn't know."

"Oh, right..." Draco Malfoy said, "Traumatic, that."

"For Filch? definitely. He loves his cat more than anything in the world."

As there wasn't much Draco Malfoy could say to that, they rode on in silence, through moor gradually turning solid beneath their horses' hooves.

[a/n: so sorry this is so slow! will try to do better about this. meantime, review please!]


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